


Perhaps Grand Romance Is A Bit Too Vague

by helloitshaley



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 24,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23921134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloitshaley/pseuds/helloitshaley
Summary: A modern spin on how Morticia and Gomez got together. "Morticia's Grand Romance" has been done so many times, so I tried to put my own spin on it to make it a bit different.
Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams
Comments: 27
Kudos: 65





	1. Life of the Party

One thing Morticia Frump never cared for was parties. Oh, sure a nice masquerade ball, maybe a wake with good catering, but never the kind that her sister Ophelia was always dragging her to. At least this venue was decent enough to have a graveyard attached to the property so she could slip away, unnoticed, and read quietly against one of the headstones.

Morticia had to admit, she didn’t expect her sister’s latest infatuation to have such a delightfully macabre house. However, Morticia had barely made it three feet inside before she bailed. Seeing a drunk man wearing a shirt that said ‘Swag’ gargling beer pong balls was more than enough party for her.

At least the graveyard was quiet. That is, until Morticia was interrupted by footsteps as well as the strong scent of cigar smoke. She shrunk down, hoping whoever it was would just continue on their way without noticing her.

Fate had different plans.

“You have the right idea,” a voice said from behind her.

“I’m not one for parties,” she said without turning around. Although there was something in the man’s voice that made her want to do so, she kept her face firmly forward.

“Neither am I,” the man said. “I was coerced into this one.”

Morticia smiled softly and closed her book. “So was I.”

She turned to look at the man leaning on the headstone and her heart stopped beating. He was devastatingly handsome, with big dark eyes, a tidy mustache on his upper lip, and neatly styled dark hair. He was wearing a black and red striped vest over a starchy, white shirt. The gold chain of his pocket watch glinted in the bright moonlight. Morticia was completely mesmerized.

“Would you mind terribly if I joined you?” he asked, stubbing out his cigar in his breast pocket without a care.

“Not at all,” Morticia found herself saying.

A moment later, he was settled beside her on the cool grass, flashing her a toothy grin. “What are you reading?”

She showed him the leather bound cover of her book. “Just a collection of Poe’s greatest works,” she said with a shrug.

“Wonderful,” he remarked. “I love a comedy.”

Morticia grinned, which caught her by surprise. She thought she was the only person who found Poe’s work to be amusing. “Which is your favorite?”

“I’ve always gotten quite a laugh out of the Tell Tale Heart,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Body parts in the floor! It's a riot!”

“Oh that is a funny one. I’ve always been fond of Murders in the Rue Morgue.”

“A classic,” he said with a grin. “You’re the first person I’ve met, outside of my family, who shares my same thoughts on the subject.”

“You’re lucky that at least your family agrees. Everyone in my family prefers watching reality tv all day,” Morticia said with a roll of her eyes.

“Oof, that is rough.”

“At first I enjoyed the insidious nature of it all,” Morticia said thoughtfully. “But even then it became too much to bear.” 

“All the while you prefer brooding in cemeteries,” he observed.

“I wasn’t brooding,” she said defensively. “That's just my face.”

“And what a lovely face it is,” he unabashedly remarked.

Morticia looked down, trying to hide the unwanted color that seeped into her normally white cheeks. She bit her lip, trying to contain the smile that wanted to break free.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he asked, tilting her chin up so she was no longer staring at her knees.

“Because usually it's my sister who receives such compliments,” Morticia dryly admitted.

“No offence to your sister, but I’m sure she is nothing compared to you.”

“Stop making me blush,” Morticia muttered, placing a cold hand on her cheek. “I’m losing my pallor.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I may continue complimenting you for the rest of the night,” he said, pulling her hand away from her face. “As I seem completely unable to help myself.”

“Are you always so forward with strangers you meet in graveyards?” she asked, hoping the answer was no and she was special for some reason.

“I don’t often meet people in graveyards,” he said with a laugh. “Well, not living people, anyway. You are living, aren’t you?” he poked her arm to make sure she was solid.

“Solidity is not always the mark of the living, you know,” she pointed out, secretly desperate for him to touch her again.

“Quite right! Take my cousin Blobb, for example! He has no bones, we have to push him around in a wheelbarrow! But, he’s living!”

Morticia laughed softly. “He sounds lovely. And like he’s quite fun at parties.”

“He would certainly liven up this little soiree.”

“I’d hardly call this soiree little,” she remarked, gesturing back toward the house.

The man’s breath hitched, his body going stiff out of nowhere. “Forgive me,” he said, his voice strained. “But when you said soiree just then…”

“But you said soiree first,” she pointed out, worried she had said the wrong thing.

“Again!” he cried, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips.

A fire crept up her arm at the feeling of his lips on her skin. Her head swam, which shocked her immensely. All he did was place a simple kiss on the back of her hand, but suddenly it felt like he had kissed her passionately on the mouth for hours on end.

“Say something else,” he muttered against her hand, his mustache tickling her skin. “In French! Say anything!”

“Um… soup du jour?” she said softly, suddenly breathless. 

He groaned and kissed her wrist. “Something else!”

“Le chat noir.”

He kissed his way up her arm, stopping when he got to her neck. “I do have to apologize,” he said, his lips only inches from her skin. “I’ve realized I don’t even know your name, yet here I am.”

“It's Morticia,” she whispered.

He lifted his head and their eyes locked. The tip of his nose brushed against her’s, and she prayed to whoever was listening that this dashing, suave, debonair stranger would kiss her properly, damn the consequences.

“Morticia,” he repeated. “What a beautiful name.”

“Thank you,” she breathed.

“You’re welcome.”

“Are you going to kiss me now?” she asked, running with the surge of boldness that just hit her.

“Yes,” he said resolutely. “I am.”

The second their lips touched, it felt like Morticia was struck by a bolt of lightning. Bats exploded in flight behind her eyes. Her body was drawn to his like a magnet. She wound her arms around his neck, pulling him as tightly as possible against her.

In one swift gesture, he tossed the book from her lap and pulled her onto his. He kissed her deeply, his arms tightly wound around her small waist. “Morticia, cara mia,” he muttered as his lips trailed across her jaw.

“You know my name,” she said breathlessly. “What's yours?”

“Gomez,” he said before kissing her neck.

Morticia froze, all the fiery passion leaving her body. “Gomez what?”

“Addams,” he said, reluctantly lifting his head. His eyebrows furrowed at the look on her face. “Is that a problem?”

“Yes!” Morticia cried, abruptly standing from his lap. “It is a problem because you’re dating my sister!”

Gomez went pale. “Sister?” 

“Ophelia!” 

Gomez’s eyes went wide. He shot to his feet. “Ophelia never mentioned that she even had a sister!”

“Yes, well, that's Ophelia for you,” Morticia said, crossing her arms.

He let out a long sigh and put his hands on his hips. “Well.” 

“Well? Well? Gomez, you kissed me!” Morticia said, hating the horrible feeling of torment shredding her insides to pieces. 

“And I quite enjoyed it and would like to do it again.” Gomez took a step toward her but she held out a hand to stop him.

Morticia shook her foggy head and began to pace. “No, no, no, this isn’t like me. I don’t go to parties and kiss random strangers. Especially strangers who are dating my sister.”

“May I be frank?” Gomez asked.

“You can be Tom, Dick, or Harry and it doesn't change anything!”

“I’m in love with you,” he stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

Morticia’s eyes flared. She wanted to tell him he was insane. They had known each other for all of twenty minutes, and under false pretenses too. However, telling him all that would only make Morticia a hypocrite. Because she was in love with him too, as utterly crazy as that sounded.

“No,” is what Morticia said instead of voicing her true feelings.

“No?” he questioned.

“Yes, that's right. No. N-O, because you are with Ophelia and she is my sister and she really seems to like you and I couldn’t do that to her,” Morticia explained in a calm manner, even though she felt anything but calm.

It broke Morticia’s heart to see Gomez’s face fall the way it did. “You can’t deny this feeling, Tish.”

God, her stomach turned to liquid when he called her Tish. “You’re right,” she choked out as she bent down to pick up her book. “I can’t deny it. Which is why I’m going home.”

“Morticia,” he pleaded, catching her arm. “Please don’t go.”

She wanted nothing more than to stay. To fall into the deep, warm abyss that was his eyes. To have all her senses clouded by the smoke from his cigar. To tumble down against the grass with him and never stand back up. But Ophelia was her sister. So she had to leave.

“Goodbye, Gomez,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

Morticia turned quickly and booked it out of the cemetery before she could change her mind, or before Gomez changed her mind for her. If she spared him one last glance, she couldn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t throw everything to the wind and do the selfish thing for once in her life.

Morticia walked home in a fog. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. Sure, she got a lot of offers from men, but they never meant anything. She never entertained them past a flirtatious conversation. Gomez was different. He was every dream and every nightmare dressed in a pinstripe suit. And not only was he handsome, but their conversation had flowed so effortlessly. He understood her, their interests were similar.

Quietly, Morticia snuck up to her room, not wanting her mother to know she was home before Ophelia. She closed her bedroom door and flicked on the soft bedside lamp. If only her heart would stop pounding, then she could think clearly. This thing with Gomez, it was infatuation and nothing more.

Except that when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and saw how smudged her red lipstick was, her knees went weak. She nearly broke out in a sob at the thought of never being kissed by him again. The pain from that nearly split her heart completely in two, which was not as fun of a concept as she used to think.

“Gomez,” she whispered, the pure longing in her voice shocking her to her core. Morticia shook her head. “I’ll sleep it off. I’ll be back to normal in the morning.”


	2. The Terror of Lunch

Except that Morticia wasn’t back to normal in the morning. In fact, she felt positively ill. Gomez Addams was still plaguing every single thought that ran through her head. It wasn’t fair, what had she done to deserve such torture? Was it because she tried to drown Ophelia that one time? That's just how sisters are!

“Sister!” Cried Ophelia’s overly chipper voice, making Morticia feel even worse. “Sister dear, awaken!”

The door to Morticia’s room swung open and Ophelia fluttered in, all sunshine and smile, as per usual. The daisies on her head bounced along with her as Ophelia danced over to Morticia’s bed.

“I’m sleeping, Ophelia,” Morticia muttered, pulling the black sheets over her head.

“No, no, no!” Ophelia sang, ripping the covers away. “Up, up, up! It's a wonderful, sunny day!”

“That's an oxymoron.” 

“Where did you go last night?” Ophelia asked as she started bouncing on Morticia’s bed. “I wanted to introduce you to my new beau, but alas! You disappeared!” 

Morticia felt like throwing up. “You know I don’t like parties.”

“Well you can’t stay in trying to summon the dark forces every night!” Ophelia said before flopping down beside Morticia, which sent a few daisy petals fluttering around.

“I can and I will,” Morticia said flatly. I wouldn’t be suffering like this if I did, she thought morosely. 

“Well never mind that! You’re coming to lunch with me and Gomez!” Ophelia announced.

Morticia sat up slowly, not quite sure that she heard her correctly. “I’m what?” 

“Oh, relax silly, silly,” Ophelia laughed, swatting Morticia’s arm roughly. “We’ll have such fun! I think you’re going to like Gomez!”

Morticia swallowed the lump in her throat. “I can’t. I’m sick.”

“Nonsense! You’re always that pale!” Ophelia shot out of bed, pulling Morticia with her. “Now, go shower! You smell like the graveyard and smoke!”

“I’m doomed.”  
…   
Morticia quite liked disaster. She thought earthquakes were amusing and she found tornadoes to be slightly romantic. The disaster of going to lunch with her sister and Gomez Addams, however, was far from being a laugh riot. Maybe it would just be a plain, normal riot.

I really don’t think I should be here,” Morticia said for what felt like the hundredth time. “You don’t want your little sister crashing your date!”

“Oh, sure I do,” Ophelia said flippantly. “How do my daisies look?”

Morticia spared a glance at the ring of flowers sitting on Ophelia’s blonde head. “They look like daisies.”

“Good, good.”

“Ophelia, my darling!” came the sound of a booming voice that Morticia had quickly grown overly fond of. “And-” Gomez stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing Morticia sitting there.

They looked at each other, neither sure what they should say. Morticia smiled awkwardly, unsure of what one would even do in this situation. Ophelia was completely oblivious as she bounced out of her seat and wrapped her arms around Gomez’s neck. She planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, leaving a bright pink smudge behind.

“Gomez, this is my sister, Morticia! Morticia, this is my sweet boyfriend, Gomez!”

“Funny, Ophelia never mentioned a sister,” Gomez said, sticking out his hand to Morticia.

“Didn’t I?” Ophelia asked with a shrug as the other two were locked in an overly long handshake.

“Ophelia doesn’t like topics that aren’t focused on her,” Morticia said, finally dropping his hand. She found herself blushing again and hoped her sister wouldn’t notice.

“Hey!” 

Gomez laughed and took the seat between them. “She also loves surprises. I didn’t know we’d have company.”

“I can leave,” Morticia offered, shooting to her feet.

Gomez grabbed her arm, which sent an electric zing through her body. “Stay, please, it's a nice surprise.”

Morticia nearly melted back into her seat. Even once she was firmly planted once again, Gomez didn’t take his hand off her arm until Ophelia spoke, jolting them out of their trance.

“I knew the two of you would like each other!” Ophelia said happily.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Gomez muttered.

Torture is what this was. Pure agony in its rawest form. The guilt over lying to Ophelia was one thing. The need to touch and be touched by Gomez was a whole other. Every time his leg would brush hers under the table, it's like the air was knocked from her lungs. She almost moaned out loud when his hand touched hers as he reached for the salt. Morticia thought she would be carried away in a straight jacket by the time lunch was over.

“Excuse me,” Morticia blurted abruptly without much warning. “I have to… powder my nose.”

“Please do,” Ophelia said with an eye roll. “God forbid a bit of color seeps into your skin.”

Morticia was away from the table before she could think of an even snarkier comeback. She just needed a moment away from the table before she said or did something stupid. She took in a few gasping breaths as she clutched the edge of the bathroom sink, trying to cool off and keep her calm composure. 

She thought nothing of the bathroom door opening behind her a few moments later. However, the sound of heavy footsteps made her glance in the mirror behind her. “Gomez?” she exclaimed in a whisper, spinning to face him. “This is the women's room.”

An amused smirk lit up his face. “I should hope you know which bathroom to go into, cara mia.”

“Please,” she all but whimpered. “You can’t call me that.”

“I am going to break things off with your sister,” he said, giving her a fleeting spark of hope, if only for a moment.

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

Morticia was finding it rather hard to come up with a valid reason. “Because it would hurt Ophelia!”

“Would I sound totally horrible if I said I didn’t care?” he asked innocently.

Morticia wanted to say yes, but the truth was she was finding it hard to care as well. Her shoulders slumped as she leaned against the sink. “She’s my sister,” she argued weakly as he stepped closer to her.

“I once tied my brother to a tree and yanked out three of his adult teeth.”

“Well that's just children having fun,” Morticia said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You didn’t hear the way she spoke about you this morning.”

“Morticia,” Gomez said breathlessly. “It's hard for me to respect your sister’s feeling when I can still feel your lips on mine from the night before.”

It was almost as if Morticia’s heart was an independent creature trying to break free from her chest. She wanted Gomez more than words could describe. And where had being a good sister ever gotten her before? It was like Morticia was always looking out for Ophelia when she got nothing in return aside from flower petals on everything she owns.

“Kiss me,” Morticia said before she could change her mind.

Gomez pulled her tightly against him, giving her no chance to back out. He kissed her with the passion of a starving man having his first meal in days. Stars exploded behind Morticia’s eyes and bats erupted in her stomach. If there was any real doubt before, she knew for certain right now that she was hopelessly in love with a man she met only a day ago.

Gomez lifted her onto the sink, settling himself between her legs, which she was all too eager to wrap around his waist. He kissed across her jaw, down her neck, to her shoulder before tugging down the lace sleeve of her dress.

Without a single thought in her head other than Gomez, Morticia started unbuttoning his vest. All she wanted, all she needed was him. Until Ophelia’s voice out in the hall shattered their pristine bubble of gloom.

“Morticia, I swear, if you escaped out the bathroom window!”

Morticia’s eyes went wide as she scrambled to get off the sink, pushing Gomez back toward one of the stalls. “Hide!” she hissed, shoving him inside just as Ophelia walked in.

“Good, you didn’t leave,” she said, skipping into the bathroom.

“No,” Morticia gasped, realizing how out of breath she was. “My nose just needed a lot of powder…”

Ophelia cocked her head to the side, frowning at Morticia’s appearance. “Your lipstick is a mess.”

Morticia spun around to face the mirror, finding that her red lipstick was not only smudged all around her mouth, but that her hair was ruffled and her dress sleeve was down, exposing her shoulder that had a set of bite marks on it.

“You know how it goes,” she sighed as she quickly fixed everything that was wrong.

“What do you think of Gomez?” Ophelia said with a giggle, bouncing on her toes.

Morticia resisted the urge to glance toward the stall he was hiding in. “Well, he seems very-”

“I think he’s the one!” Ophelia squeeked before Morticia could finish.

The guilt was back full force, hitting Morticia like a wrecking ball. “Really?” 

“Oh certainly! He’s so handsome and rich!”

The guilt subsided slightly. “Is that all?”

“Well, there must be some special thing because he hasn’t even tried to sleep with me yet,” Ophelia said with a shrug.

Morticia perked up even more. Well, as perky as Morticia could get. “Hasn’t he?”

Ophelia shook her head. “I’ll bet he wants to wait for our wedding night!”

“Wedding?”

“So you agree?” Ophelia asked, grabbing Morticia’s arms. “You think he is going to propose?”

A clunking noise came from the stall Gomez was hiding in, snapping Ophelia’s attention in that direction. She made a disgusted face and backed toward the door, pulling Morticia with her. “Come come, two's a company and all.”

Morticia was yanked back to the table before she could properly process any of what had just happened. Gomez wandered back to them a few moments later, looking rather dazed with traces of red lipstick still in his mustache, which Ophelia thankfully took no notice to.

“There you are!” Ophelia cried, nearly spilling her water out of excitement. “What took you so long, you silly goose?”

“That's, um, private,” Gomez muttered, adjusting his neck tie.

Ophelia crinkled her nose in disgust. “Ew.”

Ophelia chattered on through the rest of lunch, all the while Morticia and Gomez sat there in pure agony. Morticia was back to being conflicted. Ophelia was really into Gomez, in her own weird way. Who was Morticia to get in the way of her happiness?

But then, what about Morticia’s own happiness? She was the one who truly loved Gomez, after all. Didn’t they deserve a chance at love? Ophelia would move on in a week anyway. So it was decided. If Gomez was going to dump Ophelia, Morticia wasn’t going to stop him.

But then he never did. He paid the check and walked them to their car. Nothing. Morticia was more than a little disappointed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he opened the car door for her. “I’ll find a way soon.”

She only nodded politely and slid into Ophelia’s ghastly yellow beetle bug. What could she even say? Never in her life had her emotions been at war like this. It was far more unpleasant than one would think.

“See?” Ophelia squealed as they drove away. “Isn’t he so dreamy?”

“Mmhmm,” Moticia nodded absentmindedly. “A real nightmare.”


	3. Self Control? What Self Control?

Morticia tried every trick in the book to get Gomez off her mind. Literally. She had gone through three spell books looking for a way to make herself fall out of love with him, which was proving to be an impossible task.

And on top of that, Morticia didn’t want to fall out of love with him. She just wanted a way out of this sticky situation in a way that would give her what she wanted while also sparing Ophelia’s feelings. In fact, the thought of no longer having Gomez in her life was far more painful than her current predicament. 

Morticia sighed and slammed her spell book shut, leaning her head back against the foot of her bed. “I know,” she mumbled to her empty room. “I’ll kill myself.”

“Don’t do that,” said a voice from her open window. “At least, not without me.”

Morticia sun around to see Gomez sitting casually on her windowsill, a cigar hanging lazily between his fingers. He looked far more handsome than he had any right to given the circumstances and the fact that he most likely just climbed a tree to get there. 

“Are you insane?” she whispered.

“Yes!” he hopped down, quickly closing the space between them. “But that's not the point!”

“Ophelia could hear you!” Morticia cried as she swiftly got up to lock her door. “Or smell you!” she gestured to his cigar.

Gomez laughed and put his cigar in his pocket. “One problem solved. And I’ll promise to be very quiet. For now. I can’t make any promise as the night progresses and is that really what you wear to bed?”

Morticia looked down, suddenly very aware of the tiny black nightdress that was barely concealed by her silk robe. “Not always,” she said, fighting the blush rising in her cheeks that only seemed present around Gomez.

Gomez shrugged. “It's more than what I wear.”

“I swear, if you tell me you wear nothing-”

“Don’t be preposterous,” Gomez laughed. “I often wear a sleeping cap. I wouldn’t call that nothing.”

Morticia glared at him, trying her hardest not to picture him naked in bed and failing miserably.

“You’re picturing that, aren’t you?” he teased, walking over to pull her away from the door.

“And what makes you say that?” she countered, trying not to let onto how flustered she was.

“Because you’re looking at me like you want to devour me,” he stated with an arrogant smirk. “And trust me when I say that the feeling is mutual.”

Morticia’s mouth went dry. She was starting to realize she didn’t have a say in the matter. Which is not to say that she felt like Gomez was forcing her. Quite the contrary. It was as if her body was incapable of doing anything other than surrendering to him.

“We’ll have to be quiet,” Morticia managed to say as she decided to throw all caution to the wind.

The grin that spread across Gomez’s face was like that of a kid on Halloween morning. He quickly shrugged off his jacket and tossed it aside before taking Morticia in his arms. “Not my speciality, but I’ll do my best.” 

He kissed her with a dizzying passion, which seemed to be the only way he kissed. For the briefest of moments, she found herself wondering if that was how he kissed Ophelia. That thought, however, was gone the second Gomez tore the robe from her shoulders. His breath hitched as his hands trailed down her bare arms, leaving goosebumps as he went.

“Cara mia,” he gasped, his fingers fidgeting with the thin straps of her nightgown. “May I?”

“When it comes to me,” she whispered, sliding off his tie. “You never have to ask.”

A growl escaped Gomez’s lips, his body quivering with anticipation. He slid the straps of Morticia’s nightgown over her shoulders while she made quick work of getting rid of his shirt. 

“You will find that I am normally not so patient,” Gomez said, placing searing kisses across her shoulders. “However, I find myself wanting to savor every single second of this.”

“Oh, Gomez,” Morticia gasped, pulling his belt off with a snap.

“Tish,” he murmured against her lips. He finally let her nightgown fall to the floor, finding that he lost all resolve to keep his hands off her body. “You are perfect, truly perfect. Like I made you in a lab.”

“I want you, Gomez,” she whispered against his ear as she wrapped a leg around his waist.

“God,” he groaned, rocking his hips into hers. “Say that again.”

“I want you,” she said insistently before kissing him roughly. She bit his lower lip, breaking the skin slightly so his blood spread across her lips. “Mon sauvage.”

The noise that came out of Gomez was nearly inhuman as he threw her back against the bed and climbed over her. “You make my blood boil. You set my skin aflame!” he cried as he removed what little clothes were left between them. And I am so in love with you it physically pains me.”

“I can’t wait another second,” Morticia breathed, scratching her nails down his back.

“Tell me what you want me to do, querida, and I’ll do it,” he promised, his dark eyes boring into hers.

Morticia looked up at him with a dark, lust filled gaze. An evil smile spread across her blood red lips. “Gomez Addams, I want you to fuck me.”

Gomez groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “God, Morticia, you evil temptress. Ask and you shall receive.”


	4. Getting To Know You

An indiscernible amount of time later, Morticia and Gomez were laying in a sweaty tangle of limbs and silk bed sheets. They were engaged in a rather intense round of thumb war where Morticia was playing dirty by repeatedly jabbing him with her sharp nail.

“Hey! That is dirty pool, cara mia!” Gomez admonished as he tried to capture her thumb.

Morticia smirked. “I think it's very fair. I could start speaking French and have you in the palm of my hand. Literally.” 

“You wouldn’t!” he said with mock outrage.

Morticia shrugged. “Depends on how badly you beat me.”

“Are you fluent in French?” Gomez asked, genuinely curious.

“Yes, I spent a whole semester in Paris. It was wonderful. Even Victor Hugo couldn’t do justice to how amazing the sewers are. Do you speak any other languages?”

“Spanish and a little bit of Italian.”

Morticia smiled. “I could have guessed.”

“What did you study?”

“Spells and hexes. You?”

“I’m a lawyer, believe it or not. I don’t work much, however. Just a few cases here and there. Never lost a case!”

“How impressive.”

“Never won one either,” he said proudly as Morticia pinned his thumb down. “Drat.” 

“Maybe next time you’ll win,” she said, gently patting his cheek.

He took her hand, placing a kiss to her palm. “I must know everything about you, tell me everything! Including how you got so good at thumb wars!”

Morticia’s heart fluttered. Most men didn’t want to be bothered with such things. But then again, Gomez Addams wasn’t most men. “Well, everything you want to know about me, I want to know about you.”

Gomez grinned as he reached for a cigar. “Very well. We’ll start out easy. My birthday is June 20th.”

“You aren’t going to believe mine,” Morticia said with a sly smile.

“Try me.” 

“October 31st.”

Gomez’s eyes widened in shock and delight. “My favorite holiday!”

“Mine as well.”

“You lucky gator,” Gomez said with envy.

Morticia smiled thoughtfully. “I rather like that expression. It's much more pleasant than lucky duck.”

“Right! So tell me, my darling Tish,” he said, lovingly caressing her hand.

“Anything.”

He leaned in close, their noses touching. “Are you a witch?”

Morticia looked up at him through her dark lashes. “What gave it away?”

“Oh I don’t know… the discard spell books, you being born on Halloween, saying your major was spells and hexes, the fact that you’ve utterly bewitched me,” Gomez listed off casually.

“I swear that I did not put a spell on you.”

“No, I know you haven’t,” Gomez said earnestly. “My feelings for you are too strong to be fake.”

Morticia wound her arms around his neck, hating that there was any space between them. “We’re completely insane,” she whispered. 

“Not only that, but we’re making a bad judgement call,” Gomez added. “But I can’t find it in me to care. Especially not after tonight.”

The gleam in his eyes made Morticia’s insides twist into knots. “Strangely, I can’t either. It's as if you’re the only thing that matters anymore.”

“Run away with me,” Gomez said urgently, clutching Morticia’s hands to his chest. “We’ll start a life together far away from here! Just the two of us.”

Morticia was on the brink of saying yes when she saw a picture of her family on the nightstand behind Gomez. “We can’t do that, Gomez. What about our families?” 

“People go missing in my family all the time! Please, I’ll do anything to unabashedly call you mine, Morticia! Anything!”

The simple answer was staring them in the face. “Properly end things with Ophelia and I’m yours until the end of time.”

“You’ll marry me?” Gomez asked, an almost shy quality to his voice.

Morticia grinned, cupping his cheek. “Mon amour, I’d marry you right this second.”

“Tish!” he cried, grabbing her hips. “That's French!”

“Oui,” she said coquettishly. 

Gomez pounced, covering her lips with his in an instant. “Should I end things in the morning?” he asked after forcing himself to pull away.

“The sooner the better,” Morticia said. “But maybe go out the window and come to the front door instead of leaving from my room.”

“Ah, but where is the drama and scandal in that?” he asked with a wide grin.

“Exactly,” Morticia said. “That is precisely what we’re trying to avoid.” Morticia suddenly got quiet, a darkness over taking her features.

Gomez noticed, his eyebrows pulling together as he toyed with a lock of her ebony hair. “There's more to it than just that, isn’t there?”

Morticia sighed, absentmindedly tracing circles on Gomez’s chest with her nails. “There is, I suppose.”

“Tell me,” he urged encouragingly. “I want to know everything about you, remember?”

Morticia shook her head. “I’m probably just being overly sensitive.”

“Tell me anyway,” Gomez said sweetly. “I’m all ears.”

“Wouldn’t that be something?” Morticia mused. “Very well, I’ll tell you. Ophelia has always been the favorite and I’ve always been more of the black sheep.”

“The best kind of sheep.”

“Thank you,” Morticia said with a small laugh. “But whenever anything goes wrong, I’m usually the one who gets blamed. Now, this actually is my fault so I’m slightly terrified of what the repercussions are going to be. That's why I want to tread as lightly as possible. I want you, Gomez. You’re so worth everything and more. But I don't want to completely lose my family.”

Gomez nodded in understanding. “We will handle this in the most tactful way that we can muster. Together.”

Morticia let out a relieved breath. “Thank you, Gomez.”

“I love you, cara mia. You will always have a family with me, that I swear to you.”

“Your ability to make me blush is uncanny,” Morticia whispered, pulling him into a soft kiss.

“You’ll fit right in as an Addams,” Gomez said happily. “Even though you don’t have rotting teeth or extra toes or any various, unexplainable lumps.”

Morticia raised an eyebrow. “Darling, you don’t have any of that.”

“Don’t I?” he asked as he started kicking at the sheets. He brought his left foot up, proudly showing off an extra toe.

Morticia laughed in wonder. “I stand corrected. And that is very charming.”

“Thank you! I’ve always thought so, but apparently some people find it ‘strange’ and ‘off putting’.” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Some people just have a twisted sense of beauty,” Morticia said with a shrug.

“My brother has an extra toe as well,” Gomez said, his eyes suddenly filling with sadness.

Morticia noticed the change in his mood and gently ran her hand down his cheek. “Why did you suddenly get so sad?”

Gomez sighed. “If I tell you, I also risk you hating me forever.”

“Somehow I very much doubt that that's possible. Please tell me.”

“Very well.” Gomez lit another cigar before starting in on his story. “I drove my own brother away over something so very childish. There were these twins… and Fester was in love with them. But I was always so jealous of him that one night I took it too far. I seduced them both, and Fester walked in. He was so hurt that he left that night. I haven’t seen him in years.”

Gomez was clearly distressed, which made Morticia’s heart break. True, what he did was wrong, but he clearly felt sorry for it. There was even a sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. He took a long drag from his cigar, his eyes focused on Morticia’s shoulder rather than her face.

“Oh, Gomez…”

“I know, now you think me a horrible cad, unworthy of your love,” he said glumly. “I’ll go.”

She reached out, wrapping her hand around his wrist. “Don’t you dare. Gomez, obviously you made a mistake. You’re human… right?”

“Right.”

“You’re sorry for it now, that's obvious. You can’t change the past, but I don’t think you’re that same silly boy anymore.”

He raised a confused eyebrow. “And this doesn’t change how you feel about me?”

“Not a bit, mon cher.” She kissed him softly and all the tension drained from his body.

“That's a relief,” he said quietly, resting his head in the crook of her neck. “I can’t lose you, Tish.”

A shiver ran through her body at the feeling of his lips on her neck. “You never will,” she promised as she ran her fingers through his hair. “By tomorrow night, we can scream our love for each other from the rooftops.”

Gomez kissed her lower on her neck, making some kind of noise of approval. “And scream I shall, querida mia,” he muttered, his lips pressing against her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“If what I experienced was you being quiet,” Morticia said with a laugh as he positioned himself on top of her. “I am very eager to find out what you sound like uninhibited. We’re lucky no one came rushing in.”

“Yes, but being caught would have made things so much easier,” he said between the kisses he was trailing across her chest.

“Yes but that would have been the cowardly way, darling.”

He lifted his head for a moment. “Do you not see the big, yellow stripe on my back?”

She jokingly looked over his shoulder at the long expanse of his back. “All I see are a few scratch marks.”

“Excellent, that's how I want my back to look forever more!” he exclaimed.

“Darling, do try to control your volume,” Morticia whispered, putting her finger to his lips. “Don’t make me get out the ball gag.”

Gomez’s eyes widened with intrigue. “Morticia, please, I beg of you, get the ball gag!”

“Later, darling,” she said darkly. “Later.”


	5. Ophelia the Bulldozer

Morning eventually rolled around, bringing with it bright sunshine and chirping birds. It was shaping up to be a truly dreadful day.

“Five more minutes,” Gomez pleaded from the window sill. “I cannot bear the thought of being away from you for so long, cara mia.”

Morticia nodded in understanding as she gently stroked his cheek. “Gomez, darling, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can be together forever. In public instead of lurking in my room.”

“But I do so love lurking in your room,” he said with a devilish grin.

“Go,” she said with a laugh, kissing him one last time. “Try not to fall.”

“The only falling I’ll be doing is for you, querida mia,” Gomez said, right before he fell from the window, landing with a thud in the bushes below.

Morticia leaned out, making sure he wasn’t too seriously injured. “Darling, are you alright?” she whispered down to the shaking bushes below.

A thumbs up emerged from the green leaves. Morticia breathed a sigh of relief as he climbed out and dashed away, unaware of the various twigs sticking out of his suit. That was the first time Morticia was ever thankful for her parents boring gardening preferences. If it was a tangle of thorns like she wanted, Gomez could have gotten seriously hurt.

An hour later, the doorbell rang at the Frump house, making Morticia’s heart leap into her throat. It was going to happen. The future of her relationship with her family hung in the balance. She took a deep breath, once more running a brush through her hair before she stood from her vanity.

She could hear Gomez’s booming voice down in the foyer along with the obnoxious squeals of her sister. This was going to be infinitely harder than Morticia anticipated in her sex muddled haze the night before. She took a deep breath and made her way downstairs, ready to bite the bullet. Though that was a far more appealing prospect than what she actually had to do.

Morticia came down to find Gomez sitting at the kitchen table with not only Ophelia, but their mother and father as well. There was a panicked look in his eyes as Mrs. Frump heaped pancakes onto his plate.

“Morticia! Look who stopped by!” Ophelia squealed.

“Yes, would you look at that,” Morticia said slowly. “Any particular reason for your visit, Mr. Addams?”

“He is going to be your brother in law, Morticia,” Ophelia scoffed. “Call him Gomez.”

That statement caused black coffee to go flying out of Gomez’s nostrils. He coughed and sputtered as Morticia dashed across the kitchen to get him a rag to wipe his face with.

“Thanks, Tish,” he managed to get out between coughs.

The affectionate name did not go unnoticed by Ophelia. “Tish?” she questioned as she absentmindedly pulled one of her wilting daisies from her head.

Gomez’s already red face turned even redder before he recovered. “Shorter name was easier to get out.” He coughed again to make his point more believable. 

Ophelia bought that excuse well enough. “Okay, so why did you grace us with your presence this morning, Gomez dear?”

“I, um,” Gomez’s eyes flicked between Mr. and Mrs. Frump, who were silently watching the scene go down. “I was actually hoping to have a private discussion with you, Ophelia.”

“He’s going to do it!” Mrs. Frump cried. “He’s going to pop the question!”

Morticia felt her heart sink. This was not going as planned. Her family was going to back Gomez into a corner and chain him up there. Which would have been a delightful thought under different circumstances.

“Actually, I was-” Gomez began.

“No!” Ophelia cried, shooting up from the table. “I will not be proposed to in my kitchen! Where is the flare, the panache?”

“Then he should come with us to the Hamptons!” Mrs. Frump declared. “That's the perfect setting!”

“The beach?” Gomez questioned.

Morticia shuddered. “Do we really think that's the best idea? I mean, they have only been together for a week…”

“What better way to get to know someone?” Ophelia cried, leaping out of her chair. “I’m going to pack!”

“We’ll join you!” Mrs. Frump said, pulling her silent husband out of the room and after their daughter.

Morticia and Gomez were left in a stunned silence in the kitchen, neither of them knowing what to say.

“I hate the beach,” Gomez eventually grumbled. “It's only any fun during hurricane season.”

“I can’t believe Ophelia just bulldozed herself into having a beach proposal.” Morticia sunk down into one of the white kitchen chairs she despises so much.

“I’m such a coward,” Gomez groaned, hanging his head in his hands. “I should have just shouted over all of it that I want to break up!”

Morticia reached over and put her hand on his arm. ‘It isn’t your fault. My family is abrasive.”

“I think you’re adopted.”

“Me too.”

Gomez turned his head to the side to look at her. A guilty smile on his face. “I’ve failed you, Morticia.”

“Nonsense. There's still time to take care of this.” Even as she said it, Morticia didn’t quite believe it.

“Are you still against letting them walk in on us?” Gomez asked with a smirk.

Morticia thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. “I’ll go try to talk some sense into my sister.”

She stood, but Gomez caught her arm before she could leave. “Wait!”

“What?”

He stood and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I can’t go home without you kissing me first.”

Morticia glanced down the hall, making sure no one was coming, before caving. She wound her arms around his neck, sinking into the passionate kiss. Gomez was really making it hard for her to go upstairs and talk to her sister.

“Gomez,” she groaned as his lips moved down to her neck. “We have to stop.”

“No,” he grumbled against her skin. “I refuse.”

She laughed and gently pushed him away. “Darling, later, I promise. For now, I have to deal with Ophelia.”

“Right,” Gomez sighed, running his hand over his hair. “I’ll head home, then. And I guess I’ll start packing… for the beach…” he shuddered in disgust.

Morticia frowned. “We go every year, unfortunately. But maybe I’ll be able to sway Ophelia and you won’t have to come.”

His face fell. “But then that would be a week away from you.”

“They wouldn’t miss me if I said I wasn’t going,” Morticia said flatly. She kissed him again before pulling herself away. “I’ll call you to let you know the outcome.”

“I will be glued to the phone, querida.”

Morticia blew him a kiss before heading up stairs. She made her way to Ophelia’s obnoxiously pastel room to find her sister jumping around, throwing clothes haphazardly into her suitcase. She was humming happily to herself as she twirled around and around like a tornado.

“Ophelia?”

“Morticia!” Ophelia squealed, grabbing Morticia’s arm and pulling her all the way into her room. “Aren’t you so thrilled for me?”

“Well, actually-”

“Oh, he’s so handsome!” Ophelia sighed, hugging a pink dress tightly to her chest. “Especially when he looks like he’s barely slept.”

Morticia frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Listen, Ophelia, I think you may need to calm down a bit.”

Ophelia scoffed. “Not all of us can be so very corpse like, Morticia.”

Biting her tongue, Morticia continued. “Not quite what I meant. What I mean is, I think you’re moving too fast with Gomez. You’ve only been dating for a week.” 

“When you know you know!”

It was hard for Morticia to argue with that, but argue she must. “Ophelia, you never even give Gomez a chance to speak. How do you know he feels the same way about you?”

Ophelia shrugged and leapt across her bed to find a pair of shoes. “He said he wants to marry me.”

“No,” Morticia said through gritted teeth. “He hasn’t. You’ve said it.”

Ophelia stopped for a moment and Morticia thought she was actually getting through. Until Ophelia said, “where's my string bikini?”

“Ophelia.”

“You didn’t take it did you?” Ophelia accused. “God, Morticia, you’re always taking my stuff! That bikini won’t look good on you, you don’t have an ounce of color in your skin!”

“Never once have I tried to borrow your clothes.”

Ophelia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because you have no taste, Goth Brooks.”

Morticia scrunched her nose. “That joke is not original, you heard it on tv.”

“Ugh, why did you even come in here if not to congratulate me?” Ophelia asked.

“To try to talk some sense into you!” Morticia insisted. “You’re not ready to settle down.”

“Yes I am, sister dear,” Ophelia sang as she skipped back to her closet. “To be a trophy wife! It's all I’ve ever wanted!”

“Then do it with someone else!” Morticia cried, momentarily losing control of her emotions.

Ophelia poked her head out of the closet, raising an eyebrow at her sister. “Why do you care so much?”

Morticia took a deep breath and composed herself once again. “You’re my sister. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“You’re jealous!” Ophelia declared, her blue eyes wide. “That's it!”

Morticia shook her head. She was losing control of the situation. “It's not. Can’t you just think things through before diving in head first?”

“You can’t stand that once again I’m the one getting all the attention!” Ophelia yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “You would think after 24 years you would be used to it, Morticia!”

Morticia bit her lip as she fought to find a comeback that wasn’t going to out the fact that she slept with Gomez last night. “And you would think you would be a bit smarter, Ophelia. I’m not jealous of you.”

Ophelia fake pouted. “Try saying it like you mean it.”

Morticia focused all her anger on one of the bottles of pink nail polish sitting on Ophelia’s dresser, causing it to explode with a loud bang before she turned and stalked out of the room. Ophelia screamed in frustration as she ran over to try and save her white carpet.

“You annoying little witch!” Ophelia cried as Morticia stalked away.

It took every ounce of Morticia’s willpower not to slam her bedroom door. Frustrated didn’t even begin to cover how she was feeling at the moment. Why was she so concerned with preserving Ophelia’s feelings? If the shoe was on the other foot there wasn’t a doubt in her mind the Ophelia would be rubbing her face in this.

And now it looked like she would be packing for the Hamptons where she would watch her sister drool all over the man Morticia loved more than anything in the world. Morticia was too upset to pack. Instead she flung herself face down on her bed, which painfully smelled like cigars and expensive cologne. 

Normally, Morticia enjoyed the thought of such a soul crushing experience, but now with Gomez all she wanted was for life to be nothing but lovely thorns and singing vultures. Why couldn’t she just have one thing? Just one thing.


	6. To the Beach

As if the painfully long drive to the Hamptons wasn’t enough, Mortica had to spend it in the back of her parent’s car while Ophelia had Gomez trapped in her tiny beetle. She could only imagine what the hell was actually going on in there, but every time she dared to glance out the back window, Gomez looked absolutely miserable.

“Morticia,” her mother barked, snapping her from her thoughts. “I need you to behave this week.”

Morticia raised an eyebrow. “Behave?” 

“Stop trying to ruin this for Ophelia!”

Morticia rolled her eyes. “You know as well as I do that she is moving too quickly. She is going to end up with a broken heart.” 

“The boy is going to propose!” 

“Has anyone asked Gomez his opinion on that? Or have we all just decided for him?” Morticia snapped, unable to hide the venom in her voice.

Her mother swung around in her seat, all the while her father silently glared at the road. Mr. Frump was never one for conversation. “And what do you know about his opinions? You and Gomez good pals all of the sudden?”

Morticia stayed silent and turned her gaze back to her book, hoping that the conversation was over. She was liable to crack a nail with how tightly she was gripping her book as she prayed for an end to this strange beratement. 

By the time they pulled up outside of the Frump’s beach house, Morticia nearly leapt out of the car. She took in a deep breath of salty air, grimacing at the yellow house in front of her. The timeshare had been in their family since the girls were little, so Morticia was somewhat used to it at this point, but she never failed to be insulted by the color scheme and the beachy decor inside.

Ophelia screeched into the driveway a moment later and Gomez all but flung himself from the passenger seat before the car even came to a full stop. He looked rather haggard with his normally well groomed hair sticking up in all directions. His tie was untucked from his vest, which was wrinkled and had a prominente cigar burn.

“That was so much fun!” Ophelia squealed as she jumped from the car. “I can’t wait for the drive back! I’ll sing the entirety of The Sound of Music that time!”

“And I can’t wait for the cold embrace of the grave,” Gomez said under his breath.

Morticia found herself reaching for his arm and quickly snapped her hand back. Gomez sighed and pulled out a cigar, which prompted Mr. Frump to say, “there will be no smoking in the house, son.”

Gomez looked like he was just slapped in the face, but he nodded and put the cigar away. “Yes, sir.”

Ophelia rolled her eyes before grabbing Gomez’s hand and yanking him toward the house. “Let's go, I’ll give you the tour!”

“Ow, my shoulder!”

Morticia sighed, hating the stab of jealousy she felt as she watched them go. She walked around to the trunk and grabbed her black suitcase, taking a moment to cool off a bit. Maybe this week was going to be harder than she initially thought.

“Morticia, Gomez is going in the room you’re normally in,” Mr. Frump said as he yanked a suitcase from the trunk. “Which means you’ll be on the pullout couch in Ophelia’s room.”

Morticia nodded, because of course that's what was going to be happening. “Makes sense,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, don’t be so glum, Morticia,” her mother called as she started toward the house.

“That's just my face!”

…   
Hours later after everyone was unpacked and a bland dinner was served, family game night was in full swing. By the time Ophelia came tearing into the room with a Twister mat, Gomez was noticeably absent. Unsurprisingly, Morticia was the only one who seemed to notice. Eager to disappear herself, Morticia made some excuse and headed for the sliding back doors.

Sure enough, Gomez was standing on the other side of the pool, leaning over the railing that separated the patio from the beach. He was trying to descreetly smoke a cigar, his eyes fixed on the black waves crashing before him. Morticia silently joined him at the railing, leaning her elbows on the rough wood.

“You found a loophole,” she said softly, gesturing to his cigar.

Gomez chuckled before taking a long drag. She watched the smoke curl out of his mouth, which sent a delightful shiver up her spine. “I’m not in the house, am I?”

“I never got the chance to ask you how your car ride was.”

He rolled his eyes, reaching up to massage his temples. “Did you know there is a Legally Blonde musical? And your sister knows every single word to it?”

Morticia bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I know that all too well.”

“Not only that, but there is a Bring it On musical too? Singing cheerleaders? I almost jumped into oncoming traffic.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t bust out the High School Musical soundtrack.”

Gomez shuddered in horror.

“I rather like musicals, however,” Morticia said thoughtfully. “I rather enjoy Phantom of the Opera.”

Gomez smiled, nodding his head in agreement. “I’m partial to Les Miserable.” He stopped short. “That's French! I wish you said it…” 

Morticia glanced back at the glass doors where she could see her family twisting themselves into odd shapes on the brightly colored mat. “It's a good thing I didn’t. Glass doors and all.”

A mischievous smirk settled across his face. “Care to take a walk down the beach?”

Morticia opened her mouth to protest, but what was the point? She wanted to go, and doubted her family would even notice their absence. “Sounds lovely.”

“Capital!” Gomez cried before leaping over the railing and subsequently taking a tumble down the sand dune before landing flat on his back in the sand.

“There are stairs, you know,” Morticia said as she chose to take the sensible way down, though she couldn’t help but smile.

Gomez lifted his head, shaking sand from his hair. “But taking a tumble is so much more exhilarating!”

Morticia extended her hand to help him up, which he held tightly to once on his feet. “How many bones have you broken in your lifetime?” Morticia asked as they began their stroll along the water.

Gomez thought for a moment. “Hard to give an exact number…”

“What was the worst?”

Gomez grimaced. “I cracked my skull playing shovel tag with my brother when I was eight. I had to be sedentary for months. It was pure torture! I started to enjoy it.”

“How does one play shovel tag?” Morticia asked with a soft laugh as she gently patted the top of his head.

“Oh, simple. Whoever gets hit by the shovel is it!” Gomez sighed. “And boy was I it.”

“I’m glad it didn’t kill you.”

“So was Fester. He was already on parole.” 

Morticia smiled softly as she leaned her head against his arm. “Your brother seems nice. He reminds me of my uncle.”

Gomez turned his gaze out to the choppy sea, bringing them to a halt. “If Fester ever comes back from wherever he is, they should meet.”

“That sure would be something.” Morticia looked up, noticing the far away look in his eyes. She patted his cheek gently, pulling his attention back to her. “I’m sure he’ll come back.”

Gomez smiled and kissed the palm of her hand. “Your outlook is just what I need, cara mia.”

She smiled to herself as he began kissing his way up her arm, though she cast a nervous glance back toward the house. “Darling, we can be seen from here.”

Gomez lifted his head from her bicep, looking back toward the house. “It's dark out here.”

“Ophelia sees very well in the dark.”

Gomez frowned, looking around them when he spotted some long grass a few yards away in the sand. He grinned and started pulling her that way. Morticia found herself smiling as Gomez spun her around and pulled her softly down to the cool sand behind the grass. His lips were on hers in an instant, his arms circling around her.

He let out a sigh, resting his forehead against hers. “I’ve been dying to do that all day.”

“It's been torture.”

“And not the good kind either.” He winked, which made Morticia blush. He leaned over to kiss her flushed cheek. “You’re breathtaking.”

“I despise color in my cheeks, Gomez,” Morticia admonished, pressing her cold hands to her face to make the flush go away.

“Get used to it, querida,” he said with a grin. “I intend on lavishing you with compliments at every turn.”

Morticia smiled as she brushed a bit of sand off his shoulders. “You have completely ensnared me, Gomez Addams.”

“And I didn’t even have to use a trap!” he said proudly before his face fell. “Morticia, how are we going to get through this week? That entire dinner all I wanted to do was speak to only you, to hold your hand, to do unspeakable things with that barbecue sauce.”

Morticia found herself intrigued. “Like what?”

“Querida, they’re unspeakable for a reason.”

“Did it involve licking it off parts of my naked body?” Morticia asked, an eyebrow raised.

Gomez sucked in a sharp breath. “And then some. God, Morticia…”

“Gomez,” she sighed. He pulled her even closer so their noses were touching. “Are we going to have sex on the beach right now?”

“I would like that very much, yes, yes indeed.”

He kissed her deeply as he rolled over top of her. Sand was going to get everywhere, but neither of them cared at the moment. Morticia gasped as Gomez’s mouth moved down to her neck. She threw her head back against the sand as she arched into him, his hands slipping under her dress. She reached for his belt and unbuckled it as quickly as she could.

“I’m glad you’re as eager as me, querida,” Gomez said with a grin.

She raised an eyebrow as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Time is of the essence, mon cher.”

“That's French!”


	7. Sleepless

“Gomez!” Ophelia squealed as Gomez walked in the back door. “Where did you go?” she asked, grabbing his arm. Without warning, she jeudo tossed him over the coffee table. 

Morticia climbed through the bathroom window just in time to see Gomez fly through the air and land with a thud in the middle of the living room. Adding insult to injury, a chunk of coral that was sitting on the coffee table fell off and landed on his stomach.

“I needed some air,” Gomez wheezed. “Why did you flip me?”

Ophelia laughed. “What kind of silly question is that?”

“Right, silly me…”

“Why is Gomez on the floor?” Morticia asked as she finally made her entrance, still shaking sand out of her hair.

“Ophelia flipped him,” her mother said simply.

“I’m fine,” Gomez said as he scrambled to his feet. “I’ve always liked the feeling of a bruised spine.”

“Where have you been, Morticia?” her father asked, his dark eyes narrowing at her from his chair across the room.

“Reading,” she replied seamlessly. “You know I don’t like Twister.”

Ophelia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, God forbid your back be anything other than a stiff board at all times.”

Morticia ignored the jab, choosing to instead keep her unblinking gaze on her father. If he suspected anything, the jig would be up and an atomic explosion would follow. He eventually looked away from his daughter, turning his attention to the tv instead.

“Well,” Gomez began, his voice a bit too loud. “I think I’m going to turn in. Goodnight everyone!”

“I’ll show you to your room!” Ophelia yelled before once again grabbing his arm. This time, she threw him down the hall toward the staircase.

Morticia cringed as he hit the ground. “I think I’ll go to bed as well. It was a rather long day.”

Ophelia had already hauled Gomez to his feet and was halfway upstairs by the time Morticia turned around. She shook her head and followed them up, hoping that Ophelia would just show Gomez to his room and go back downstairs. 

“Do I get a goodnight kiss?” Morticia heard Ophelia ask right as she got to the top of the stairs.

She frowned and tried to find something to busy herself with so she wouldn’t have to watch. However, Morticia couldn’t really help herself and found herself glancing at the two from the corner of her eye. Gomez looked horrified as he leaned forward, but quickly dodged Ophelia’s mouth and planted a kiss on her forehead instead.

“Night, Ophelia!” he said before quickly dashing away into his room.

Morticia couldn't help but smile, which she quickly hid as Ophelia spun around with a disappointed look on her face. Ophelia huffed, narrowing her eyes at Morticia, which then morphed into some kind of look of smugness that Morticia didn’t understand.

“Your face is doing a lot of things,” she commented.

“With all this waiting and yearning our wedding night is going to be astounding,” Ophelia said with a smirk.  
Morticia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Are you really sure that's what this all means?”

Ophelia thought for a moment, her gaze seemingly vacant, before snapping into a smile. “Yes! I do! Now, are you going to sleep, dear sister?”

“Yes, are you?”

“Hmm, I think I might go jump in the pool!” Ophelia took off, leaving a flutter of daisy petals behind her as she went.

“You didn’t put a swimsuit on!” Morticia called after her, not that that's ever stopped her sister before. She had a thing for jumping into open water that Morticia never quite figured out. But, Ophelia liked to be damp, so Morticia just let it go.

Morticia made her way down the hall toward the bathroom, when the door to Gomez’s room opened and a hand abruptly pulled her inside. She let out a startled noise of surprise as she found herself in his warm embrace. 

“I can’t take it,” Gomez said, his nose pressed against hers. “It hasn’t even been a full day and I’m ready to tie cinder blocks to my feet and wade into the ocean. I’m going to end things first thing in the morning.”

Morticia let out a glum sigh and frowned. “Then what?” 

Gomez’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I didn’t think that far ahead.” 

Morticia let out a soft laugh. “Ophelia just told me that all the ‘waiting’ you’re doing is going to make your wedding night explosive.”

Gomez's eyes widened an alarming amount. Morticia was almost worried that they would pop out. Though putting them back in would be fun… “Tell me, has your sister always been so… deluded?”

Morticia shrugged. “You know I hate speaking ill of my sister.”

“You really shouldn’t.” 

Morticia laughed and patted his cheek. “I’ll just say that Ophelia and I have never been of the same frame of mind. Her head is up in the clouds and mine is, well, not in the clouds.”

“And I have to know,” he said with a serious tone. “The daisies?”

“Grow out of her head, yes. The doctors can’t find an explanation.”

“Fascinating… but anyway, back to the matter at hand. Us.” Gomez grabbed her shoulders, a pained expression on his face. “Querida, what can we do?”

“Just… exist,” Morticia said somewhat hopelessly. “My darling, this kills me. But I don’t see any amicable option.”

Gomez nodded. “I understand. There is a thrill to sneaking around. Though I have sand in a place that there should never be sand. I’m starting to enjoy it, actually.”

“Perhaps a shower is in order,” Morticia said suggestively. “Ophelia is down in the pool-”

Morticia barely got the sentence out of her mouth before Gomez swept her off her feet and into his arms, making a beeline toward the bathroom. “Tish, you read my mind!”

…   
“Gomez, I have to go,” Morticia laughed, looking with caution down the hall. Gomez was kissing her arm as she was trying to sneak back to her room to get in bed before Ophelia came back. “Darling!”

“Tish, stay with me, please!” he pleaded, his lips on her bare shoulder.

“I wish I could, but we can’t risk it.” Morticia spun toward him, clutching at the towel around her body so it didn’t fall. She kissed him softly before backing out into the hall. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Gomez pouted, but relented. “I’ll count the hours!”

“Try getting some sleep instead,” Morticia said as she dashed down the hall. “Unpleasant dreams, my dearest!”

Gomez sighed dreamily. “I hope you have the worst nightmares, cara mia.”

Morticia thought her face would crack from how wide she was smiling. Gomez made her feel giddy, which was something Morticia never thought she would ever feel. But it was good. She enjoyed it! It was like bats were gnawing at her insides and it felt wonderful! 

She sighed happily as she pulled on her nightgown and crawled into the creaky, spring filled, stiff pullout bed. With how perfectly uncomfortable the bed was, Morticia expected to be asleep within seconds. However, hours had passed, Ophelia had come in and was now snoring, and Morticia was still wide awake. She moved so the metal bar was directly in the middle of her back, and nothing.

Morticia sat up, glancing at the clock beside the french doors. It was nearly 3 in the morning. The moon was high over the dark ocean, spilling across the white carpeting of the room. Morticia frowned as she looked around at the obnoxiously nautical room. Nautical in the worst way possible. There were no photos of shipwrecks or fish mounted on the walls. Just a lot of white and blues and coral statues everywhere. Uninspired. 

She glanced over at Ophelia, who was still snoring and clearly fast asleep. Resolved to get a good night's rest, Morticia slipped out of the squeaky bed and tiptoed over to the door. Before she could think of what a bad idea this was, she was sliding into Gomez’s room.

At the sound of the lock clicking, Gomez lifted his head. A sleepy smile spread across his face at the sight of Morticia. “I was worried it was your sister.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I couldn’t sleep,” she said by way of explanation.

Gomez lifted the covers to welcome her in. “Is your mattress too soft too?”

She shook her head as Gomez wrapped her in a tight embrace. “No, the pullout mattress is delightfully lumpy. It was a lack of something else keeping me awake.”

She could almost feel the smug smile on his face. “A lack of Gomez?”

“Perhaps. I’ll have to leave early in the morning, however,” Morticia mumbled, already feeling sleepiness setting in.

“Of course,” Gomez said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I promise to wake you up.”

“Thank you, darling.”


	8. A Shark Attack Would be Perfect

“Tish, Morticia,” Gomez mumbled, jabbing at her cheek with his nose. “Tiiiiish.”

Morticia groaned, rolling over to bury her face in his chest.

“Morticia, it's six am,” Gomez said, laughing in spite of the early hour.

That woke Morticia up right away. She sat up, glancing at the clock to make sure he was right. Letting out a sigh, she squinted down at Gomez in the hazy light. “Thank you, my darling.”

“For the record,” he said, taking her hand to place a kiss to it. “I would never kick you out of my bed under any other circumstances.”

Morticia nodded in understanding. “I know, mon cher.”

Gomez groaned. “Even at six am that French does things to me. Stay, I just need five minutes.”

“Later, darling,” she said, kissing him once more before sliding out of bed. “Thank you for waking me up.”

“Always, querida mia. Always.” 

Thanks to Gomez, the morning went off without a hitch. None of the Frumps suspected a thing, which had Morticia smiling even though she despised the beach. Even more, she despised the sun and the threat of it adding any color to her skin. Which is why she was set up beneath a black umbrella with a wide brimmed hat and coverup. The heat was sweltering, but she kind of enjoyed it.

However, Morticia had one major problem, and it wasn’t the sun. It was Gomez, lounging on the other side of her sister in his black and white striped swim trunks and nothing else. Morticia was trying very hard to concentrate on the book in her lap, but now he was struggling to rub sunscreen into his back and she wanted nothing more than to push past her sister and do it for him.

“Why are you spazzing, Gomez?” Ophelia eventually snapped, abruptly sitting up and shoving her sunglasses to the top of her head. 

“I can’t reach my back!”

Ophelia scoffed. “Why didn’t you ask me, silly silly?” Without much warning, she slapped her palm against his back, which made Gomez yelp with unexpected pain.

“Thanks, thanks, I think I’m covered.”   
He stood, looking around the not so crowded beach. That was one thing Morticia actually liked about coming to this beach, it wasn’t over crowded like if they went to Florida or something. She could at least attempt to relax. Attempt being the operative word.

“I think I’m going in!” Gomez declared, clapping his sandy hands together. “Anyone coming?”

He was looking at Morticia, but it was Ophelia who answered. “I can’t! I just had all those pancakes!”

“I’ll go in,” Morticia said, a bit too eagerly. 

Ophelia laughed loudly. “But that would mean coming out of your cocoon of darkness!”

With a pointed look, Morticia slid out from under her umbrella and let her coverup slide off her shoulders. Gomez’s reaction to her strappy black bikini was anything but subtle, but Ophelia was too busy teasing her sister to notice the way his jaw dropped.

“Gah, so white, I’m blind!” Ophelia said before cackling loudly to herself.

“The sun is making your daisies wilt,” Morticia said flatly before turning to walk toward the water.

Ophelia squealed, reaching for Morticia’s discarded hat to guard the flowers on her head. Morticia couldn’t help but snicker to herself. Her sister was so absorbed with her appearance for someone who seemed a bit oblivious to everything else.

“Do you know if any shark attacks have happened on this beach?” Gomez asked as he barreled into the water.

“Never when we’re here,” Morticia said with a frown, wading in more carefully than her counterpart. “But there's always this trip!”

“You dreamer you,” Gomez said with a fond smile. “Hey, watch this!” he said before diving in head first to a wave. He popped up a few moments later with a piece of seaweed on the top of his head.

“Fearless is a good way to describe you,” Morticia said, pulling the seaweed off his head, nearly getting knocked over in the process. 

Gomez caught her before she could get pulled under, his hand lingering on her waist. “Not true. I find bunnies truly horrifying.” 

“Well that's only human.”

“Does anything scare you?” Gomez asked. “Aside from the obvious things like bunnies and butterflies and Disney Channel Original Movies?”

Morticia thought for a moment, the question thoroughly stumping her. “I don’t know… I suppose I’m afraid of never moving forward.”

Gomez raised an eyebrow. “That sounds deep. Care to elaborate?”

Morticia shrugged. “It's probably silly. I don’t know, I don’t want to be the youngest Frump forever. I want my own life outside of Ophelia’s sunshine filled shadow. But I’m afraid that just won’t ever happen for me.”

Gomez laughed softly, reaching up to cup Morticia’s face with his wet hands. “I swear to you that you will have your own life. With me.”

Morticia grinned, right as a wave crashed down, submerging them both without warning. Gomez resurfaced first, looking around in a panic when he couldn’t find Morticia. He spun around, blinking the salt water from his eyes. 

“Tish?” A moment later, Morticia popped up a few feet away from Gomez. Her hair was plastered over her face. Gomez let out a relieved sigh and waded over to her. “Tish, thank goodness! Wow, you look like my cousin!”

“What?” she laughed, pushing her mass of raven hair off her face.

“My cousin, he’s rather hairy. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, that was fun!” Morticia said, trying to get her hair back to normal. “I swallowed a lot of salt water! Anyway, what were we talking about?”

“Fears,” Gomez said with a laugh.

“Right. Well, I told you my darkest fear, what's yours?” she asked, reaching for him as another wave threatened to pull them apart.

“Losing you,” Gomez said simply.

Morticia chuckled softly. “We’re supposed to be honest, not flatter each other.”

“I am being honest,” Gomez insisted. “Until I met you, I already had my worst fear realized. I drove away my own brother. I thought nothing could top that. But the thought of you no longer being in my life is horrifying, Morticia. You mean everything to me.”

Morticia blushed, unable to help herself. “You won’t lose me. I promise.”

Gomez beamed, his eyes darting between Morticia and the beach. “I would love to kiss you, but your sister is doing cartwheels toward the water.”

Morticia turned her head and sure enough, Ophelia was making her way like a Tasmanian devil toward the water. Thinking quickly, Morticia started moving along with the current. “Oh dear, I seem to be drifting away.”

“Oh no,” Gomez said in an equally sarcastic tone. “Morticia, I will rescue you!”

“Help me, help,” she said flatly. “I have no control over the way I’m moving! It would be a shame if a shark were to get me!”

“Ugh, Tish,” Gomez said with a dark grin as he swam after her. “Don’t tease.”


	9. Its Nice to Meet You, Lurch

Why, why, why, Morticia wondered as she put the finishing touches on her makeup for the evening. Every summer her family insisted on going out to at least one fancy restaurant during their trip and Morticia hated it. The restaurant itself was fine, it was dimly lit and always had a nice view of the sunset over the ocean, but the food was so bland. Steak? Pasta? Uninspired.

However, Morticia would be lying if she said she didn’t like dressing up for dinner. If she could, she would wear floor length gowns every day. She stood, examining the plunging lace neckline of her black dress, wondering if it was ‘too much.’ But then she thought of what Gomez’s reaction would be and those worries dissipated.

“Oh my God, Morticia!” Ophelia yelled up the stairs. “Are you ready yet?”

Morticia took a calming breath and adjusted the slit in her chiffon skirt. She walked out of the room, eager to see Gomez as she momentarily forgot all about their situation. Then the disappointment hit as she got to the top of the stairs and saw Ophelia with her arms wrapped around him at the bottom.

Gomez, however, couldn’t have been less interested. His jaw dropped at the sight of Morticia as his heart hammered aggressively in his chest. “Tish,” he gasped, forgetting himself.

Morticia blushed, trying to hide the smirk that was tugging at her lips. “Sorry for the hold up.”

“No worries,” he replied.

Everyone else in the room on the other hand, was eager to go and rather oblivious to how Gomez and Morticia were eye banging each other. “Our reservation is in ten minutes!” Mr. Frump barked, clapping his hands together. “Let's go!”  
…   
The restaurant, as always was full of the normal preppy, stuffy, snobby clientele that liked to glare at Morticia like she walked in in nothing but her underwear. Not that she let it bother her, she took amusement in their discomfort. It wasn’t her fault they thought Tommy Hilfiger was the be all and end all of fashion. 

At least Gomez didn’t look like he just stepped off a yacht either. His black and white pinstripe suit made him stand out almost more than Morticia. Unlike Morticia, Gomez genuinely didn’t notice the odd stairs he got over the fact that he was dressed like a mobster from the 1920’s. Mortica found herself envious of how he just flowed effortlessly through life and hoped that some of his confidence would rub off on her.  
They settled into their table, where Morticia ended up beside her mother and across from Gomez. He shot her a sly wink, which she brazenly returned. Maybe she was gaining some of his confidence already. He grinned before ducking behind his menu. 

Morticia absentmindedly glanced to the side, where she caught her father glaring daggers at her. Though her blood ran icy, she gave him a small smile. What was there in a wink that he could be suspicious of? No one ever said Morticia and Gomez couldn’t be friends, Ophelia even encouraged it, maybe they were winking over an inside joke.

But Morticia knew her father was smarter than that. He was already suspicious the night before when they reappeared in the house at the same time. They would have to be more careful, she decided. They had been almost sloppy up until now.

“Oh my God, Morticia!” Ophelia squealed, leaning over the table, which resulted in her nearly setting her hair on fire by one of the tiny tea lights. “That guy at that table won’t stop staring at you!”

“Who?” Gomez barked before she could respond. “I’ll rip-” he cut himself off when he realized the eyes of the entire Frump family were on him. He cleared his throat and began again. “I’ll rip off a piece of napkin with your number on it to give him if you wish.”

Morticia fought the urge to roll her eyes as she looked to where her sister was not so subtly gesturing. The table beside them was full of what appeared to be frat boys, most of whom were wearing pastel shorts. The one on the end with flat top hair and a sunburn was not so subtly checking out Morticia. He nodded at her as they made eye contact, making his eyebrows bounce in a strange way.

Slightly appalled, Morticia yanked her attention away. “No thank you,” she muttered, taking a long sip of wine. Even if she wasn’t crazy in love with Gomez, that was not the type of man she would ever give the time of day.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Morticia,” her mother snapped.

“Seeing as I’m not begging, I can be as picky as I want. That man is not even remotely my type and on top of that, I’ve heard him accost the waiter three times in the fifteen minutes we’ve been here.”

The poor waiter in question was a rather hulking, imposing man with a square head and almost greenish skin tone. He was lumbering back toward the frat table, holding a tray of drinks expertly in his hand. Despite the fact that he seemed to be doing a phenomenal job, the man eyeing Morticia seemed determined to make more trouble for him.

“Hey, Frankenstien, I asked for my martini with three olives!” the man spat, snapping his fingers at the waiter. “This has four!”

The waiter shook his head. “But… I thought…” he said in a very low and gravelly voice. “You said four.”

The whole table snickered to themselves. The man spoke up again. “Can’t you count?”

Having heard enough, Morticia set her sights on the offending martini, which was still in the guys hands. Before he could hand it back to the waiter, the liquid burst out, nailing him directly in the face. Morticia did consider impaling his eye with the toothpick, but she thought that might be a step too far. 

“Morticia!” Ophelia gasped. “Why did you do that?”

Morticia raised an eyebrow. “You can’t prove that was me.”

“You can’t play God just because you have magic,” her mother sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Did he really deserve that?”

“Like I said, you have no proof that I caused that,” Morticia said in her eerily calm manner, slowly sipping her wine. She looked over at Gomez, who was beaming at her with pride. “Perhaps it was karma.”

The martini drenched man shot away from the table, making a beeline for the bathroom. The befuddled waiter was looking around with clear confusion as he tried to figure out what could have caused that. He slowly lumbered away from their table without a word. Unfortunately, as he left, one of the other frat boys whispered, “there goes his tip.”

Morticia frowned. That was not the result she wanted at all. Gomez nudged her foot under the table. She looked up at him as he discreetly mouthed, no worries. She raised an eyebrow at him and he nodded in response.

“Honestly, Morticia,” her mother continued, oblivious to the exchange happening. “Would Ophelia throw a drink in a man’s face?”

“No,” Morticia said simply. “She would just judo flip them over the coffee table.”

“That's right!” Ophelia said happily, grabbing Gomez’s arm and twisting it awkwardly. He groaned as his bones popped loudly. “I know what the men want!”

“Really?” Gomez groaned. “Can you put me in a coma then?”

Ophelia’s eyes widened in excitement. “Yes! Ready?”

“No!” Morticia and Gomez said at the same time.

“Oh, boo,” Ophelia pouted, crossing her arms. “I never get to have any fun!”

Dinner wore on at an excruciatingly slow pace. Mrs. Frump dominated most of the conversation, which left Morticia all but mute through the meal. Not that she much minded. She was only disappointed that she couldn’t really talk to Gomez, even though he was right across from her. They were, however, engaged in a discreet game of footsie, which is a thought that would have made Morticia barf up until now.

“So, the wedding,” Mrs. Frump said. “What kind of timeframe were we thinking?”

Morticia focused all her attention on her rare steak. Gomez quickly polished off his drink as Ophelia threw her arm over his shoulder. “Spring!” she exclaimed. “My daisies always look best in the spring!”

“I need to say-” Gomez began, but was cut off. 

“And the weeds in the garden always look so nice!” Ophelia continued.

“Excuse me,” Morticia muttered, sliding away from the table.

She walked out to the stone patio that was reserved for parties and was thankfully empty at the moment. The sun had almost set, giving the illusion of the ocean being on fire. Morticia smiled at the intriguing thought as she took a seat on the stone ledge separating her from a twenty foot drop to the water below.

She took solace in the quiet, thankful for not having to hear wedding plans. She hung her head. How were they going to get out of this mess? And a mess it was indeed. She could only anticipate heartache in the end. Whos heartache, she couldn’t yet tell.

The glass door creaked open and thinking it might be Gomez, Morticia turned eagerly around. Instead, it was the waiter from earlier. “Sorry,” he grumbled out, his shoulders hunching inward.

“That's alright,” Morticia said. “There's plenty of room out here.”

“It's my break,” he said, taking a few steps out onto the patio. 

“I’m taking a break from my family,” Morticia said flatly. “I’ll be going back in soon. The patio will be all yours.”

“Don’t mind,” the waiter said, lowering his large body to the stone ledge. 

She smiled as he pulled a rather pungent sandwich out of his paper bag. “I’m Morticia,” she said. “I’m at the table beside the one you were serving. I’m sorry those men were rude to you.”

He shrugged. “Used to it.” He bit into the strange smelling sandwich, devouring it in a few bites. “But thanks. I’m Lurch.”

“It's nice to meet you, Lurch.”

“Are you with the mustache man?” he asked.

Morticia laughed softly. “It's a very long story. Why do you ask?”

He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Gave me this,” he handed it to Morticia.

Unfolding it, she found that it was a check for $5,000. Her heart nearly turned to liquid in her chest. When he said no worries, he really meant no worries. She handed it back to Lurch, her head swimming his admiration.

“Gomez is amazing like that,” she said, unable to keep the fondness out of her voice. 

Lurch shook his head. “I can’t accept.”

“If I know Gomez, and I do, he would rather chop off his own hand than take that money back,” Morticia said with a smirk. “What are you going to do with the money?”

Lurch shrugged his massive shoulders. “Might move. Mama lives in Georgia.”

“What a coincidence, so do Gomez and I,” Morticia said with a small smile. “Do you have a piece of paper?” He nodded, handing her a pen and his order book. Morticia wrote down her number as well as Gomez’s before handing it back to him. “Feel free to reach out once you’re down there.” With a sigh, she stood. “I should get back to my family. It was nice to meet you, Lurch.”

He looked between Morticia and his order book in awe. “You too, Morticia.”

Feeling like the conversation and night air helped to clear her head, Morticia headed back into the restaurant, only to be blocked by the somewhat damp frat boy from before. “Excuse me,” she said icily, trying to get past.

“I’m Chad,” he said, oblivious to her distaste.

“Obviously,” she shot back. “Now, if you would please move so I could get back to my table.”

“I’ll move if you give me your number,” he said with a slimy smile.

Morticia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “I don’t give my phone number to grown men who wear pastel shorts. Furthermore, I don’t give my number to men who are rude to the waitstaff. Also, you clearly can’t hold your liquor seeing as you dumped your martini all over yourself, which is a red flag if I’ve ever seen one. Excuse me.”

Morticia pushed past him, since he still refused to move. The man scoffed, loudly saying “whatever, spooky bitch,” as she passed. 

Morticia smirked. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

As she walked back to the table, she could see that Gomez watched the entire exchange, and he was not pleased. Morticia rolled her eyes and took her seat. Gomez gritted his teeth but smartly kept his mouth shut. What could he say anyway that wouldn’t raise suspicion? 

Dinner finally came to an end, but Ophelia didn’t seem eager to call it a night. Once in the parking lot, she wound her arm around Gomez’s neck before roughly grabbing Morticia’s wrist. “Let's go to a bar!” she suggested gleefully. “I’m too excited to call it a night!”

Their mother scoffed as she walked toward their car. “I doubt Morticia will be joining the two of you.”

Not wanting to give her mother the satisfaction of being right, and also not wanting to leave Gomez alone with Ophelia, Morticia stood her ground. “I think going out sounds fun, Mother.”

“They don’t want you tagging along, Morticia,” her father said sternly as he glared at her with hard eyes.

“Sure we do!” Ophelia said. “Don’t we, Gomez?”

“Yes! Yes we do!” Gomez said eagerly, nodding his head.

“So it's settled,” Morticia said, walking toward Ophelia’s car. “We’ll see you in the morning.”


	10. You Oughta Know

A karaoke bar. Morticia was all but stunned as Ophelia dragged her and Gomez inside. The bar was jam packed full of drunk patrons eagerly waiting to screlt out their favorite Spice Girls song. Ophelia instantly ran over to put her name on the list, leaving Gomez and Morticia to claim a small table in the center of the room.

“Ever done karaoke?” Gomez yelled over the noise.

Morticia raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes, Gomez, because I am a raging extrovert.” 

He laughed as he slid off the stool. “I’ll get us a round of drinks.”

“Hurry back,” she said, squeezing his arm as he passed.

“Cara mia,” he gasped, dragging himself away from her.

Moments later, Ophelia bounced back to the table and jumped up onto the stool. She giggled, resting her chin in her hands. “I’m going to be singing I Will Always Love You, seems appropriate. Doesn’t it, dear sister?”

Morticia forced a grin to her face. “Whatever you say, Ophelia.”

“You left when we started talking about the wedding,” Ophelia shouted over the horrendous singer. “Do you think the spring is too far away?”

She looked down at her red nails, trying to figure out the right thing to say. “I think it might not be far enough, to be honest.”

“Oh… I’m thinking as soon as Gomez pops the question we get hitched right here in the Hamptons!” Ophelia was grinning like a mad woman as she leaned across the table. “I’m too excited!”

Morticia was at a loss for words, but luckily Gomez returned with drinks, getting her off the hook from the conversation. “I hope you like Alanis Morsette,” he said to Morticia with a sultry wink.

“What?” she asked in a panic. “Why?” 

“Because you’re up after Ophelia,” he said with a grin as he stuck a cigar in his mouth. Morticia flicked the end of it, half wanting to light it for him and half wanting to show her distaste. “Thanks!”

“Gomez,” she growled. “I don’t do things like this.”

He grinned and shrugged. “I thought you would enjoy it. The lyrics are so angry.”

Morticia leaned across the table to glare at him. “Gomez, I can do a lot more than make a drink fly into someone’s face.”

“It will be fun, Morticia!” Ophelia said, right as her name was called to go up on stage. “Oh, yay!”

Morticia continued glaring angrily as Ophelia skipped away. “Gomez.” 

He lifted his drink to his lips with a very arrogant smirk on his face. “My darling, if you are truly so upset, I will go take your name off the list. However, it would bring me no small amount of pleasure to hear you sing up there.”

Morticia crossed her arms. “Are you really going to guilt me into this?”

They both winced as Ophelia started her song. “Not at all,” he said as he slid around to sit beside Morticia. “Honestly, seeing the way you get second banana to Ophelia in everything I thought maybe you would enjoy showing her up in front of a group of strangers.”

Morticia smiled to herself, toying with the stem of her wine glass. “And how do you know I’ll be any better?”

Gomez laughed. “Call it a gut feeling, querida.”

“Ophelia is very… high pitched.”

“I’m shocked none of the glasses have shattered yet.”

“Very well… what song did you put me down for?” she asked, which made Gomez’s face light up with glee.

“You Oughta Know,” he said. “I thought it would be right up your alley.” 

She nodded in consideration. “You know me alarmingly well, Mr. Addams.”

“It is my goal in life to know you better than I know myself, cara mia.”

“What you did for that waiter tonight was really nice, Gomez,” she said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “Color me impressed.”

Gomez smiled softly. “It was the right thing to do. And I’m glad you gave that asshole a what for. He was an idiot.”

Morticia smiled happily as she thought it over. “I’m glad you think so too.”

“We make a pretty good team, do we not?”

Morticia was kept from responding as Ophelia finished her song and quickly skipped back to the table. “It's too bad this isn’t a competition, because I would have won hands down,” she said before taking a long sip of her margarita. “Right?” 

“Oh absolutely,” Gomez said flatly.

“Next up is… Morticia Frump,” the announcer said from the stage. “Come on up, Morticia.”

“Break a leg!” Gomez said happily, patting her back.

“I better not regret this,” she hissed before making her way to the stage.

Gomez watched on in amusement as Morticia awkwardly came to a halt behind the mic stand. She squinted in the lights and some guy whistled, which made Gomez bristle with anger that he had to repress. 

He felt somewhat guilty as the music started and Morticia looked petrified. But then her eyes landed on their table and Gomez saw her entire demeanor change as she got into it. Even Ophelia stopped talking so she could watch, and Gomez laughed as he saw her jaw drop open.

“I don’t know who that is, but it is not my sister,” she said. “I have no idea how you talked her into this.”

“You should give your sister more credit,” he replied as he pulled out a fresh cigar.

“She is normally such a… I don’t know, stick in the mud.”

“She isn’t,” Gomez said in a defensive tone.

“And how would you know?” Ophelia shot back.

Busted. He decided to change the subject. “Let's just watch, alright?”

Ophelia didn’t seem happy about it, but she turned her attention back to her sister and dropped the subject. Gomez took a long sip of his whiskey, which he nearly spat out when Morticia sang, “and are you thinking of me when you fuck her,” accompanied by a seductive booty roll.

“Merida,” he hissed as he tightly clutched his glass.

Morticia finished the song to a round of applause from the drunk audience and a relieved sigh from Gomez. The fact that he couldn’t just grab her and kiss her after that was making him lose his mind. He finished his drink, hoping that maybe that would help calm him down a bit. 

“Mom and Dad are never going to believe that just happened,” Ophelia said.

“Tish!” Gomez cried as she squeezed her way through the crowd back to the table. “That was amazing!”

“Tish?” Ophelia repeated. “That's the second time I’ve heard you call her that.”

“Oh, um, it's just a nickname,” Gomez stammered. “I give everyone nicknames… Pheil.” 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well, since that was so very fun, I took the liberty of signing you up, Gomez,” Morticia said with a grin.

Gomez grinned back, unworried by the prospect. “Capital! What song?” 

“Backstreets back.”

“Alright!” Gomez cried, clapping his hands. “You ladies are in for the performance of your lives.”

Morticia frowned. “I thought you would hate that.”

“I will not be giving you that satisfaction,” he said with a mischievous wink. The announcer called his name and Gomez shot out of his seat. “Prepare to be wowed!”

Morticia shook her head as he rushed away. His enthusiasm was so endearing and he had Morticia so distracted that she almost forgot Ophelia was at the table, until she let out a long sigh. “He’s just so dreamy,” Ophelia said.

Morticia kept her lips closed and chose to focus on Gomez, and the very animated way he went about performing the Backstreet Boys song. She laughed as he jumped around on the tiny, beat up stage. He was quite the showman, Morticia had to admit, and it was quite amusing.

“Oh, just look at him, Morticia!” Ophelia all but whined, gripping Morticia’s arm.

“I am, Ophelia,” she muttered. “I am.”

“Aren’t I lucky?”

Morticia stayed silent and finished off her wine. Gomez ended his performance with a sweeping bow and proud smile and sauntered back to the table. “Well?” he asked as he pulled out a cigar.

“Wonderful, dar- Gomez,” Morticia said, catching herself in the knick of time. “You actually made that awful song worth listening to.”

“That's a great song!” Ophelia cried indignantly.

“It was fun, even if the song itself is asinine,” Gomez said.

“See, I knew you didn’t like it,” Morticia said triumphantly.

“Yes, it is over so now I can admit it.” He grinned at Morticia, cigar hanging lazily from his teeth. “Happy?”

“Oh yes,” she replied. “Yes, completely.”

“Um… when did you two get so friendly?” Ophelia asked, giving them a quizzical look.

As calm as ever, Morticia said, “you didn’t want to go swimming today, so we got to talking at the beach.”

Ophelia glared at them both for another moment before shrugging. “Okay! Well, I’m bored here now. Let's go dancing!”

…   
Morticia despised the loud, thumping techno music that was assaulting her ears in the over packed club Ophelia dragged them to. Morticia was hanging back by the wall, trying not to watch Gomez with Ophelia out on the floor, but it was too hard not to. It was like a train wreck, you couldn’t look away. Only Morticia was getting no joy out of watching this. In fact, she was debating whether or not to jab her eyes with toothpicks.

To avoid torturing herself further, she focused on a couple who could not find the beat of the music to save their lives. It was rather amusing and also slighlty painful to watch. It also had Morticia perfectly distracted for when Gomez slid up beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Gomez,” she gasped, slapping her hand against her chest. “I thought you were a creep.”

“You flatter me, cara mia,” he said with a devilish grin. 

“How did you escape my sister?” Morticia asked as she scanned the crowd. “She seemed determined to throw out your pelvis with her backside.”

Gomez nodded, a haunted look in his eyes. “Oh, she was. Lucky for me, someone else asked her to dance and she said yes.”

Morticia raised an eyebrow. “Really? Perhaps that bodes well for us.”

“It also means I can ask you to dance and she can’t be suspicious. So what do you say? Want to dance to this abhorrent music with me?”

“Abhorrent is correct,” she said, sliding her hand into his. “But yes, I would dance with you to anything.” 

Gomez pulled her out to the packed, light up floor and spun her around under his arm. He instinctively pulled her close to his chest, his nose brushing against hers. Morticia forced her reasonable side to take over and begrudgingly pulled her face back. “We have to be careful, Gomez.”

His eyes hardened with a strange sort of determination. “I’m in love with you, Morticia!” he shouted over the music. “And I don’t care who knows it!”

Before Morticia could tell him to quiet down, he kissed her. As much as she knew that she shouldn’t, she let it happen, diving into his embrace with no hope of resurfacing. But then all too soon, he pulled back, that determination still on his face. He nodded to himself and took a step back.

“I’m going to tell Ophelia!” he yelled. “Right now!”

“Gomez-”

“Not to worry, querida, I’m taking the full wrap for this!”

Gomez broke away, dashing off to find Ophelia. Morticia stood stunned in the middle of the pulsing, sweating bodies, barely even aware that she was constantly getting bumped around. She was too muddled in her brain to process anything other than the fact that she was sure Gomez had completely lost his mind. 

But strangely, Morticia was at peace with this turn of events. So what if her family completely shunned her after this? So what if Ophelia never spoke to her again? It didn’t feel like she was exactly close with any of them. Most days it felt like they only tolerated Morticia’s presence. And of course that hurt, she would be lying if she said it didn’t, but maybe this was the best way to get back at them for all of that. Maybe it would be the start of a new chapter.

Gomez broke through the crowd in front of her and instead of looking elated, he looked puzzled. “She didn’t believe me.”

“What?” 

“She didn’t believe me when I said I was in love with you! She just… laughed and said, ‘yeah right, good one.’”

Morticia’s hopes sank yet again. “How could she not believe you?”

Gomez shook his head. “Because your sister is impossible!”

“Hey, I’m kind of tired!” Ophelia yelled as she appeared from seemingly out of nowhere. “Can we head home? I think I gave that guy the wrong impression.”

Morticia and Gomez shared a look. With a nod, Gomez turned toward Ophelia. “I think Morticia and I are going to stay. We’ll get a cab.”

Ophelia stared blankly at them before shrugging. “Okie dokie. You keep my man honest, Morticia!” She jumped up and planted a big, pink kiss on Gomez’s cheek before bouncing away.

Instinctively, Morticia reached up to wipe the pink smudge from his cheek. “I’ve always known my sister was a little ‘out there’ but this is new. This is just delusional.”

“I have a cousin who's delusional,” Gomez said casually. “It's really fun to play I spy with her.”

Morticia smiled absentmindedly. “She sounds lovely.”

Gomez nodded. “I think you’ll like her very much.” He took Morticia’s hand and started to pull her toward the door. “Come on, we can find a much better place than this.”


	11. Tango

“Gomez, where are we going?” Morticia asked once she couldn’t take the suspense anymore. Gomez had tied his tie around her eyes a few blocks ago and the mystery had her nerves spiked in the best way possible. 

“I took you for a more patient person, querida mia,” he laughed, giving her shoulders a squeeze. 

“I am patient,” she insisted. “But I’m also curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat!”

“Yes… how wonderful.”

“We’re here!” Gomez announced. He let go of her shoulders momentarily and she heard the sound of a door creaking open. The low sounds of latin music spilled out around her, as well as the dull chatter of conversation. Gomez once again placed his hands on her shoulders and urged her forward before untying the blindfold. “Viola! Much better than that other club, wouldn’t you say?”

Morticia grinned as she took in the scene around them. They were up on a platform, looking down at a dance floor full of couples swirling around to the rhythmic music. There was a small stage in the corner with a small band, led by a singer who was crooning away in Spanish.

“I had no idea there was a salsa club in the Hamptons!” she said. “This is much better, Gomez.”

“Ah, but it is not a salsa club, querida mia. It's a tango club.” He brought her hand to his mouth, placing a slow kiss on it before pulling her toward the stairs. “Care to join me?”

“I could think of nothing more wonderful, darling,” Morticia said, her words almost breathless as she followed him.

As it would turn out, tangoing with Gomez came almost as natural as breathing to Morticia. Every move was effortless and just seemed to flow without any thought on their part. They were hardly even aware of the other couples on the floor, or how much time had passed as they danced.

They twisted and turned all around, focusing on only each other. Little did they know that had the attention of almost everyone in the club with what some would call their expert dance skills. Morticia’s heart was racing with exhilaration. She never wanted this night to end. More specifically, she never wanted her time with Gomez to end.

“Last call!” the bartender shouted as the band started to wind down.

Gomez pulled out his pocket watch before then checking his wrist watch. “It's three in the morning,” he said.

Morticia frowned, putting her arms around his shoulders. “I’m not ready to say goodnight.”

Gomez smirked as he raised an eyebrow. “Who says we have to say goodnight?”

…   
“Are your feet in tremendous pain, my darling?” Gomez asked as they walked up the long driveway to the beach house.

“Yes,” Morticia said, looking down at the strappy high heels she had been wearing and dancing in for nearly eight hours. “It's wonderful.”

“Nevertheless,” Gomez said before sweeping Morticia into his arms. “I will carry you the rest of the way.”

“Ever the gentleman,” Morticia said before kissing his cheek.

“And I promise not to drop you,” he said before tripping over a tree branch and completely dropping Morticia to the driveway. “Cara mia, forgive me!” he gasped, stooping down to pick her back up.

“It's quite alright, dear,” Morticia laughed, brushing sand from her dress. “It was rather amusing anyway.”

“I promise to only drop you that one time.”

“Perhaps I should carry you.”

Gomez laughed, throwing his head back. “I would like to see that. But for now, I would like to get you upstairs as quickly as possible.”

He fumbled with the door knob, making a bit more noise than he would have liked to. He grimaced as he tiptoed inside, still trying not to drop Morticia again. She was biting back the urge to laugh at his efforts to be silent.

“You are far too boisterous of a person to be sneaky,” Morticia whispered.

“I could be a super spy, thank you very much,” he shot back, coming to a halt in the upstairs hallway. “I’m not ready to say goodnight either, Tish.”

Her eyes zeroed in on the door to his room. “This isn’t where we part, Gomez.”

He beamed before planting a giant kiss on her cheek. They quietly made their way into his room and locked the door before Gomez finally set Morticia down on the bed. He knelt in front of her and began untying the leather straps on her shoes. She let out a relieved sigh as Gomez laughed, lifting her foot to examine the harsh red marks left by the high heel.

“You really do enjoy torture, don’t you, my darling?” he asked as he began untying the other shoe.

She looked down at him, a slow grin spreading across her face. “Oui.”

“Oh, Tish,” he growled, kissing her ankle. “French.”

“Je sais,” she said, leaning back as he kissed his way up her leg.

“Say more,” he whispered against her thigh, shoving her dress out of his way. “I beg of you.”

“Soup du jour,” Morticia whispered, making herself laugh.

However, Gomez didn’t seem to care what she said as long as she said it in French. She had all but exhausted her French vocabulary by the time they collapsed side by side. Morticia rested her head on his shoulder, unwilling to accept the fact that she would have to leave his side soon.

“The wretched sun will be up in a few moments,” Gomez whispered.

“I choose to ignore that fact,” Morticia responded.

“I have an idea! Why don’t you and I pretend to have food poisoning tomorrow? Then we can spend the whole day here together.”

Morticia propped herself up on her elbow to smile down at him. “That's a brilliant idea, darling. I wish I would have thought of that.”

“You inspired the thought,” he said, sliding his hand around the back of her neck. “That counts for something.”

“I suppose I should go,” she said with a sigh before kissing him softly. “Though you confessed to Ophelia, I’m afraid we’re still stuck in the same boat.”

Morticia slid out of bed to find her dress, leaving Gomez reaching out after her. He sighed, flopping onto his stomach as he watched her. “Would you be opposed to me hanging a nude portrait of you in my study back home?” 

Morticia laughed as she begrudgingly pulled her dress back on. “The question, my dear, is would you be okay with everyone who enters your study seeing it?”

He thought for a moment. “Good point. Our bedroom then? And notice how I say our.”

She walked back over and took his chin in her hand. “You are a charmer.”

“On second thought,” he said, kissing her palm. “Mama has been going into my room more frequently since we can’t seem to keep a butler for very long.”

“Would you zip me?” she asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “I wouldn’t want your mother thinking I’m some hussy.”

“Mama will adore you, Morticia.” Gomez kissed her shoulder. “I promise you that.”

“She won’t think of me as the other woman?” she asked, clear concern in her voice.

“Tish, if I had her meet Ophelia she would have me institutionalized,” he laughed. “You are the woman for me and she will see that. You’ll fit right in with us, more so than some of our own family, in fact.”

Morticia turned away as she felt a blush creeping into her cheeks. “I should go.”

“I’ll look forward to being horrendously ill with you,” Gomez said with a grin before she kissed him one last time.

“It shouldn’t be hard for me to pull off,” Morticia said with a soft laugh. “I’m already very pale.”

“Like a goddess of moonlight,” Gomez said in adoration.

She bit her lip to keep from smiling too much. “Goodbye, Gomez.”

The softness in his eyes nearly melted Morticia into a puddle. “Sleep well, querida.”


	12. A Sick Day Well Spent

“How is it both you and Gomez are so terribly sick, but not the rest of us?” Morticia’s mother squawked as she paced at the foot of Morticia’s bed the next morning.

“We both had the steak,” Morticia grumbled, doing her best to make it sound like she was in pain. She had even spritzed water on her face to make it look like she was sweating, which was something she learned from Ophelia when she didn’t want to take an exam.

“It's because you both ordered the steak raw!” Ophelia cried. “Who likes looking at all that blood on their plate? Now who am I going to hang out with all day?”

Morticia looked pointedly at their mother. “Mother and Father, Ophelia.”

Ophelia pouted, sticking out her bottom lip like a child. “Maybe I should just stay and look after the two of you.”

“No, no,” Morticia said quickly. “We’ll be alright. We’re both probably just going to sleep between bouts of vomiting.”

“Ewww.”

“Besides, when do you pass up a shopping trip?” Morticia pointed out.

Ophelia’s eyes widened in delight as she realized what the plans for the day were. “You and Gomez will be fine on your own! Come on, Mother, I want a pair of earrings to match my daisies!”

Ophelia had yanked their mother from the room before another word could be said. Morticia let out a relieved sigh once they were gone. She was thrilled that Gomez’s plan had actually worked, not that she had any reason to doubt him in the first place. As soon as she heard her family leave, Morticia was out of bed and making her way down to Gomez’s room.

She opened his door to the buzzing sound of Gomez brushing his teeth in the bathroom. “I’ll only be a moment, cara mia,” he said as he noticed her in the mirror. “I needed to get the vomit out of my mouth.”

Morticia’s eyes widened in confusion. “Gomez, darling, did you actually throw up?”

He spat dramatically in the sink and shrugged. “We wanted them to think we were sick. Why, you didn’t make yourself throw up?”

“No, Gomez!” Morticia laughed, grabbing a tissue to wipe some of the toothpaste out of his mustache. “I splashed some water on my face and acted sleepy.”

“Oh…” He nodded as he considered this. “Yours was the simpler option.”

“I do appreciate your dramatic flare, darling,” Morticia said as she stroked his cheek. “How is your stomach feeling now?”

“Very strong!” he declared. “Now, how do you feel about a shower?”

Morticia looked back at the large walk in shower, a grin spreading across her face. She took Gomez’s hand and pulled him back toward it. “I like it scalding.”

“Oh, as do I, cara,” he said, pulling off his t-shirt. “Absolutely burning. If my skin isn’t red by the time I’m done, I’m not satisfied.”

“Oh, I am going to leave you very satisfied, mon amour,” Morticia promised.

“Ah, Tish,” he groaned, yanking on the shower. “Don’t tease.”

Morticia pushed up on her toes to kiss him before pulling off her nightgown and stepping into the steaming shower. “Who's teasing?”

Gomez quite literally jumped into the shower after her, almost forgetting to take his pants off in the process. He pulled Morticia against his chest and kissed her deeply under the heavy stream of water. “This shower pressure is unreal,” he said between kisses. “I feel like I’m being pelted by pebbles.”

“It's wonderful, isn’t it?” Morticia asked. “I could spend hours in this shower.”

“I could spend hours with you in this shower,” Gomez responded, his lips on her neck. “And I have the stamina for it, I promise.”

“Oh, of that I am well aware.”

… 

“You mentioned your mother before,” Morticia mused as she lounged against Gomez’s chest. He ran his fingers through her damp hair as she continued. “But not your father.”

Gomez sighed deeply, taking a moment to respond. “He died when I was seven.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, darling,” Morticia said, turning slightly to face him. “Was he sick?”

“Angry mob,” he said without diving into further detail. Morticia didn’t press for more. She could clearly tell how much it upset him. “The two of us were thick as thieves. Fester always gravitated more toward Mama.” He laughed to himself as he reminisced. “She always said I was his spitting image, cigar and all.”

“So he was a lady killer, then,” Morticia said.

“Acquitted!”

Morticia grinned, sitting up so she could look at him. “I think it's wonderful how fond you are of your family. You talk about them with such adoration.”

Gomez shrugged, reaching over to toy with a lock of her hair. “My family is everything to me. And you, of course, are now included in that.”

“Good,” Morticia said slowly. “I like the sound of that.”

“Can I be honest about something?” Gomez asked, a slightly worried look crossing his face.

“I hope you always will be.”

“Your family does not treat you very fairly,” he stated bluntly, his eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

Morticia sighed. “They don’t… it's just that…”

“There is no excuse, querida,” Gomez said as he placed his finger to her lips. “They put Ophelia on such a pedestal and act like you are just…”

“The freak?” Morticia laughed mirthlessly. “Now you know why I was so concerned about my family finding out about us.”

“You should be treated like a queen, Morticia. No ifs ands or buts about it.” He gripped her hands in his, pulling them close to his chest. “I swear to you that not a day will go by where I don’t remind you of this.”

“Gomez, I can say with complete sincerity that the thought of spending the rest of my life with you fills me with a kind of happiness that I didn’t know existed until I met you.”

“Cara mia,” he sighed, cupping her face in his hands.

“Mon cher.”

…  
“How do you feel about children?” Morticia asked as she absentmindedly scrolled through movie options on the TV.

“Love them!” Gomez exclaimed. “I’ve been told that I myself am a big child. What about you?”

“I would like them. Some day,” she added. “Not right away. I would rather enjoy our time together for a little while.”

“I agree!” Gomez exclaimed. “I’m glad we’re on the same page. Though I’m willing to bet that we’d be on the same page about most things.”

“Care to put it to the test?” Morticia asked, tossing the remote to the side.

“Yes!” Gomez said eagerly as they fully faced each other. “Poe or Byron?”

“Poe.”

“Me too!”

Morticia smiled. “Okay, my turn. I’m going to make it harder.”

“Oh, you always seem to,” Gomez said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Gomez, control yourself,” Morticia said with a laugh.

“It doesn’t help that you’re naked,” he said, gesturing toward her body.

“As are you!”

“Yes, but the difference is I am not sexually attracted to myself,” Gomez said. He reached over and pulled Morticia’s raven hair over her shoulders so it spilled down over her chest. “Alright, as you were saying.”

“If you had to choose, would you rather have a lion or a hyena?” she asked.

“While I do enjoy the maniacal cackling of a hyena, I have to go lion.”

“As would I,” Morticia said happily.

“Okay, my turn!” Gomez said eagerly, rubbing his hands together. “If you could have dinner with anyone from history, who would it be?”

“Oh that's tough,” Morticia said, thoughtfully tapping her finger against her lip. “Hmm, my initial thought was Ivan the Terrible.”

“He’s my favorite person in history!”

“He was sweet,” Morticia said. “I’m going to up the ante now. What number am I thinking of?”

Gomez leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Morticia’s. “666?”

“Yes!” Morticia happily exclaimed.

“Okay, you do me now,” Gomez said, which made himself laugh. “What number am I thinking of?”

Morticia leaned in and only had to think for a moment before it came to her. “69.”

“By jove, you got it!”

“Yes, well, knowing you it wasn’t that hard to figure out,” Morticia said, patting his cheek.

“Then you’ll have no trouble assuming where my mind has wandered,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Did it even have to wander that far?”

…   
“Tish?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

…   
“Would I like that?” Morticia asked as Gomez leaned off the bed to grab a cigar from his discarded jacket from the night before.

Gomez shrugged, looking between the cigar and Morticia. “Have you ever smoked before?”

“All the time,” Morticia said, shaking her arms out. “Watch.”

Gomez’s eyes widened in shock as smoke started to billow up around Morticia. He laughed in disbelief, watching in awe as the smoke started to then disappear without a trace. “Querida! That was amazing! It wasn’t quite what I meant, however.”

“I know, it's just fun to do,” she said with a shrug.

“You can try it, if you want,” Gomez said, handing over the unlit cigar. “I just need to find a match.”

“No need,” Morticia said. She flicked the end of the cigar, lighting it instantly. Smoke curled up, forming the shape of a heart above her head.

“Convenient,” Gomez said happily. “Go ahead, take a puff. It's a bit strong, you might-” Gomez cut himself off as Morticia blew a perfect smoke ring in his face. He smiled proudly. “Okay, just prove me wrong then.”

Morticia laughed softly, making smoke exhale from her nose. “It would be no fun if I was predictable all the time.” She put the cigar back in her mouth, taking a languid drag. She leaned back on the pillows, smirking as Gomez followed her with his eyes.

“Querida,” he hissed, laying down beside her. “Watching you smoke one of my cigars… it sets my blood aflame.” 

Morticia raised an eyebrow as she made a show of putting the cigar back in her mouth. Gomez groaned, reaching over to grip her hip. “It does, does it?” she asked, leaning in closer to him.

“Morticia mia,” he whispered. “Should I start doubling my cigar order?”

“No, darling, I’m just going to enjoy this one and watch you drool.”

“So you’re aware of the effect you’re having on me?” Gomez asked. He leaned over Morticia to box her in with his arms as she blew her final smoke ring in his face. “Cara mia, you torture me.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Good.” 

He took the cigar butt from her fingers and tossed it behind them to the floor. “Those lips of yours are sinful.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

“I must kiss you.”

“Kiss me,” she gasped. “Kiss me please, Gomez.”

…   
“Morticia, cara mia, do your parents always buy such cheap wine?” Gomez asked as he reentered the bedroom holding the aforementioned wine and a cork screw.

Morticia crossed her arms, sitting up to look at him. “We can’t all have the advantage of a family fortune, Mr. Addams.”

“No, no, I was not being a snob!”

“He’s so rich yet he can’t even remember to bring wine glasses.”

“Morticia,” he sighed, his shoulders drooping. “Forgive me, I was just surprised by the twelve dollar wine considering we are in a beach house in the Hamptons.”

“It's a timeshare.” 

“Tish!” Gomez exclaimed in desperation, crashing to his knees beside the bed.

Unable to hold it in any longer, Morticia started to laugh. “I am only teasing you, my dear.”

Gomez let out a relieved sigh, letting his head fall to the bed. “You really had me on the line there, darling.”

…   
“Zen yogi is one of my favorite pastimes!” Gomez said from his headstand in the middle of the room. “What do you think?”

“Very impressive, darling,” Morticia said, propping her chin up on her hands. “Is it always done nude?”

“This is entirely for your benefit!”

“Ah, I see.” She grinned in amusement. “It looks slightly painful, to be honest.”

“Oh, it is!”

“Your face is very red.”

“That's all the blood.”

“It's rather attractive.”

Gomez grinned. “Why thank you darling.”

…   
Morticia had fallen asleep at some point in the afternoon, but Gomez didn’t mind. Quickly he learned that observing Morticia was one of his favorite new hobbies, and this was giving him the perfect opportunity to do just that. Her raven hair was spilling in waves over the white pillow, her long lashes fluttering ever so slightly, her red lips parted just enough to show her very white teeth.

Gomez sighed, resisting the urge to touch her. She looked as peaceful as death, he didn’t want to disturb her. Carefully, he got off the bed in search of a pencil and piece of paper. He wasn’t normally one for art, but he felt the inexplicable urge to sketch Morticia just as she was at that moment.

So he started sketching, finding that it came rather natural with a subject such as Morticia. In fact, he was feeling rather smug as he captured her likeness down to the small freckle at the side of her eye.

His pencil quickly stopped as Morticia shifted in her sleep, the thin sheet slipping from her chest. Gomez’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at her in adoration. “Cara mia, what did I do to deserve you?” he whispered.

He watched as Morticia’s lips twitched, forming a sleepy smile. “Darling?” she muttered, sleep filling her voice. “What are you doing?”

“Did I wake you up?” he asked, putting his drawing behind his back before she opened her eyes.

She shrugged. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep in the first place. It's just that some man had me out dancing half the night, I barely got any sleep.”

Gomez grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Some man, you say?”

“Mmhmm,” Morticia sighed, propping herself up on her elbow. “A very dashing man. Well dressed, a nice mustache, dark and intriguing eyes, a slight Spanish accent if you listen close enough.”

“Oh, well, he sounds like a man who is nowhere near worthy of you, querida mia.”

“Au contraire,” Morticia purred.

“Oh, Tish,” he gasped, leaning in to kiss her. Morticia took that moment to reach behind him and grab what he was hiding, which caught Gomez completely off guard. “That was sneaky, my love.”

“Says the man who was hiding this behind his back,” she retaliated as she unfolded the paper. Her amused expression fell into one of shock as she looked at the drawing of herself. Her eyes flicked up to look at Gomez, who was watching her expectantly. “You drew this?”

“You hate it, I’m sorry,” he apologized, reaching for the paper.

“No, don’t take it.” Morticia sat up, clutching it to her chest. “This is wonderful, I didn’t know you could draw.”

He shrugged, running his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t either. I saw you and it just sort of happened.”

She smiled softly, looking back down at the picture. “No one has ever drawn me before.”

“Well that is a heinous crime.”

She laughed softly. “Can I keep it?”

“Whatever you want, my darling, it is yours,” he said, reaching over to take her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it softly. Gomez grinned as a red tinge seeped into Morticia’s pale cheeks. “You’re blushing.”

“And you know how much I despise that,” she said. “And it's never happened until meeting you.”

Gomez beamed with pride. “I take that as a high compliment.”

“You’ll have to let me paint you sometime soon,” Morticia said, setting the drawing on the nightstand. “It's one of my favorite things to do and I couldn’t think of a more perfect subject.”

“I would be honored.”

“That does mean you would have to be still for an extended period of time,” she teased, patting his cheek.

“For you, I will manage.”

The sound of a car door slamming outside shook them from their romantic fog. Morticia turned to look at the clock on the wall, frowning as she realized how late it was. “I suppose it was silly to assume this day could last forever.”

She slid off the bed to retrieve her nightgown from the bathroom where she left it hours ago. Gomez followed her in, begrudgingly getting redressed as well. “Soon enough this will be our lives, cara mia, I promise.”

The front door opened and Morticia felt a jolt of fear rush through her. “I have to go.”

“Will you come back again tonight?” he asked, following her to the door.

“Of course,” she said before backtracking to get her picture. “I’ll see you then, my love.”

“I’ll count the moments.”

They kissed quickly, only breaking away because of the sound of steps on the stairs. Morticia dashed back down the hall, sliding into her bed just in time. Her mother walked in and Morticia pretended to be asleep.

“Morticia,” her mother said, shaking her shoulder. When Morticia didn’t react, her mother got rougher. “Morticia, would you wake up!”

Slowly, Morticia rolled over and tried not to glare at her mom. “Welcome back. How was your shopping trip?”

“Ophelia and I picked out your bridesmaid dress,” she announced, setting a dress bag down on the bed.

Those words made Morticia nauseous for real. She sat up, the spring filled bed creaking loudly beneath her. “My what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Morticia, it's unbecoming,” her mother snapped as she unzipped the dress bag. “For Ophelia’s wedding.”

Morticia nearly screamed as her mother pulled out a bright yellow monstrosity of a gown. She raised a hand to cover her mouth as she glared at the layers of tulle her mother was fluffing out. “No,” is all Morticia could say. 

“No?”

“That's right. No. It's like none of you even know me at all.”

“Ophelia explicitly said she doesn’t want you up there in some depressing funeral gown bringing down the atmosphere!”

It took every ounce of will power in Morticia’s body to not tell her mother there would be no wedding. Not for Ophelia at least. “I’m still not feeling well so if you could please take that away before I vomit on it, that would be appreciated.”

The older woman rolled her eyes. “Would you knock it off, Morticia? You know, I’m starting to think your father may be right.”

Morticia looked at her with trepidation. “What do you think Father is right about?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “He thinks you’re in love with Gomez and jealous of your sister.”

Morticia bit her lip. Her father was always rather astute, but she didn’t think he would talk to her mother about his suspicions. Morticia chose to go with the truthful statement to get her out of this jam. “I’m not jealous of Ophelia.”

“Could have fooled everyone else.” She snatched the dress off the bed and stormed toward the door. “You better start feeling better by tomorrow. It's going to be a big day.”


	13. The Thing with the Ring

The next morning, Gomez and Morticia could no longer feign illness, much to their dismay. Gomez found himself alone in the kitchen, praying Morticia would be down soon and before any of her other family members. He was sipping his bitter coffee and nervously drumming his fingers against the counter. He considered hiding somewhere, but thought better of it at the last minute. It would have been too hard to explain if anyone besides Morticia found him.

There was a knock at the door and he took that as his chance to engage himself in something else. He opened the door to find nothing but a box sitting on the welcome mat. With an excited grin, he picked it up and dashed back to the still deserted kitchen. He grabbed a knife and slashed eagerly through the tape.

A hand popped out, waving excitedly at Gomez.

“Thing! I’m so happy to see you!” he exclaimed with a whisper. 

Thing jumped up and patted Gomez’s shoulder before dropping back to the counter.

“You brought it?”

Thing flashed an okay symbol before jumping back in the cardboard box. He pulled out a smaller black box and handed it to Gomez. He quickly tucked it into his pocket as he glanced around the room. “I can’t thank you enough, Thing. Are you staying?”

Thing shook before flashing a thumbs down.

“Morticia and I could really use a friend,” Gomez whispered. “You sure you won’t stay?”

Thing shook again before motioning that he was going to hitch hike back.

Gomez shrugged. “If you insist. I could mail you back.” Thing gave him a thumbs down. “Very well. Would you at least like to meet Morticia?”

Thing picked up a spoon and tapped out in morse code, I’ll meet her at the wedding. Good luck!

He jumped off the table and scurried out the door, ready to hitchhike back home. Gomez had to laugh. Thing was always one for adventure. Gomez patted the box in his pocket, feeling a jolt of excitement run through him. His grandmother’s ring was going to be absolutely perfect for Morticia.

“There you are, I’m glad I caught you alone!” Came the shrill voice of Mrs. Frump, catching Gomez off guard. “We need to talk.”

“Do we?”

“You need to get your affairs in order, mister,” she said, jabbing her finger into his chest. “My daughter is expecting a proposal and I think it needs to be done today if you know what's good for you.”

He reached down to pat the ring box, a small smirk forming on his face as a plan formed in his brain. “A proposal is exactly what your daughter is going to get, Mrs. Frump. At sundown, you are going to see a proposal to knock your socks off.”

…  
“It's wonderful, it's wonderful, it's wonderful,” Ophelia sang over and over as she twirled around in the pool.

Morticia huffed to herself as she tried to ignore her sister. Her nose was buried in a book as she sat beneath a large umbrella, trying not to read too much into the fact that she had barely seen Gomez all day. It shouldn’t have been that surprising, they couldn’t be attached at the hip in front of her family.

“Morticia!” Ophelia sang. “Isn’t it so wonderful?”

She finally looked up, glaring at Ophelia from behind her thick sunglasses. “What, Ophelia?”

Ophelia swam over to the edge of the pool, sighing loudly as she rested her chin in her hand. “How I’m going to be Mrs. Addams soon. Oh, Morticia, I’m going to be so rich!”

“Ophelia, I am begging you, tell me one thing you like about Gomez aside from his face and his wallet,” Morticia snapped, slamming her book shut for good measure. 

Ophelia’s vacant blue eyes darted back and forth as she thought for an astoundingly long time. “I like how easy he is to flip!”

Morticia gritted her teeth, trying very hard not to explode at her sister. “You don’t love him, Ophelia, so what is the point?”

“Easy living, Morticia,” Ophelia said with a grin. “And besides, doesn’t he look like he would be so good in bed?”

“You astound me, Ophelia,” Morticia said, her voice raising. “You are so vapid!”

“Thank you!”

“I think I’ve had enough sun,” Morticia said through gritted teeth. “I’m going in.”

“You know, if you weren’t so spooky maybe you could find a husband too! Let me give you a makeover! Add some pink to your wardrobe, and if maybe you stopped showing so much cleavage guys would take you more seriously. You need to leave something to imagination to keep them coming back for more.”

Morticia shook her head. “I can’t… why would you even-”

“Also, you give off bitchy vibes. Like, frigid bitchy vibes.”

“Enough, Ophelia.” Morticia turned on her heel and stormed inside, running right into her mom as she did so.

“Oh, good, Morticia I want you to go upstairs and shower and put on something presentable.”

“Presentable?”

“Yes, I spoke with Gomez earlier and he is going to be proposing to your sister tonight so I want you looking your absolute best.”

Morticia felt her stomach drop. Her mother must have misunderstood, that's all. Or maybe Gomez only said that to keep her mother happy. But there was a horrible, nagging feeling tugging at Morticia’s heart that said otherwise.

“He’s proposing tonight?” she asked, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “He said that?”

Her mother nodded, a pleased look on her face. “Sure did, and it's about time too. Now, run along, I don’t want you looking so depressing on your sisters big night!”

In a daze, Morticia made her way upstairs, trying to calm her racing thoughts. After everything, he couldn’t just marry her sister. Gomez wouldn’t get her hopes up like that, but he was nowhere to be seen. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since she snuck out of his room this morning.

“I would ask you why the long face, but that seems to be your permanent expression,” Morticia’s father said as she passed him in the upstairs hall. “Except around one person.”

Morticia shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at Gomez, Morticia. I’m not blind like your mother and sister,” he said with a shake of his head. “It's obvious you have feelings for him.”

At this point, Morticia was feeling hurt and confused and just wanted to lock her door and scream, and she might have taken a bit of that out on her father. “And what's your point?”

“My point is, I think you need to get a handle on it before you do something irrational.” He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she shrugged him off.

“Ophelia doesn’t love him,” she snapped. “And Gomez does not love Ophelia.”

Her father shook his head, looking slightly bemused. “What does love have to do with any of it? Ophelia will be happy with him, and let's face it, we may not find another man willing to marry her.”

“You sound archaic, Father. And why are you so concerned about Ophelia, who just glides through life without a single care! So what if she never gets married? Ophelia can find happiness watching a leaf float through the air! You really don’t need to worry about her.”

“So who do you suggest we worry about then?”

“Me!” Morticia cried, completely losing her calm demeanor. “For once in my life, can’t you and Mother worry about me? About my happiness? Gomez makes me happy, Gomez actually loves me! And why should I pretend any differently for Ophelia’s sake when we know damn well if things were reversed she wouldn’t hesitate to steal him away?”

“Morticia, calm down.”

“No! I’ve spent my entire life being calm, being a doormat! Why, Father, why do you and Mother love Ophelia so much more than you love me?” Morticia asked as tears started to stream down her face. “I’ve come second to Ophelia in everything!”

He held out his hands, trying to calm his hysterical daughter. “Ophelia has always been a bit more precious than you, Morticia. More fragile. You are more than capable of looking out for yourself where as Ophelia…”

“And why do you think I am that way? Because that's how I learned to be from constantly being shoved aside! I’m always second banana!”

“Well, you are very odd, Morticia.”

“I don’t know why but I thought maybe, just maybe you would be on my side,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t know what hurts more, the fact that you aren’t, or the fact that you have such a shallow view of me.”

“That isn’t fair of you to say,” he rebutted.

“Isn’t it?”

“You always had strange hobbies, you liked to play with vultures in the yard, you don’t seem to enjoy every day food. Then there's the magic.” He stopped talking and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I mean, look at yourself, Morticia! You could be so beautiful if only you were more like-”

“Don’t you dare say that to me,” she sobbed, feeling her heart tear in her chest. “Gomez thinks I’m beautiful without any ifs, ands, or buts.”

“Well it's just too bad that he’s out there, preparing his proposal for Ophelia.” He patted Morticia’s shoulder with a sad smile. “Maybe next time you’ll get lucky, kid.”

Morticia watched her father walk away through her tear filled gaze. She was alone, more so than ever before. She made her way toward the bathroom and locked herself in, sliding down to sob on the cold tiles. Gomez had promised her the world, how could he back out? How could he choose Ophelia over her?

Morticia let out a bitter laugh. He was choosing Ophelia because that's what everyone did. And she had to clean herself up and pretend to be happy for them, but that was the last thing she was going to do for this family. Morticia was going to pack her things back up and leave tonight and go to who knows where. She didn’t have a plan, but she really didn’t think she needed one. Anywhere else was better than watching the family who only tolerated her fawn over their new son in law who was hers for the briefest of moments.

Mostly she wouldn’t be able to bear the sight of Gomez with Ophelia. He had become such a part of her that the thought of being without him caused her physical pain. He was the other half of her soul, and she would never be happy seeing him with someone else. If that made her selfish then so be it. For once, Morticia was going to be deeply selfish with no regrets about it. It wasn’t as if she had anyone else to do it for her.


	14. The Bait and Switch

Gomez was all but buzzing with anticipation. He somehow managed to get everything set all by himself and in the knick of time too. All that was left to do was get the Frump family down to the beach, where he was paying a few lifeguards rather handsomely to keep the beach clear. He pulled out his pocket watch before conferring with his wrist watch to get the time.

With a giant grin, Gomez dashed back to the house to get changed. This was going to be a rather important night, after all. He needed to look his absolute best, because Morticia deserved nothing less than his absolute best. He couldn’t stop smiling as he rushed through getting ready.

He made his way down to the living room an hour later, finding all the Frumps, minus the most important one. “Where’s Morticia?” he asked instantly, ignoring how Ophelia had latched herself onto him.

“Why? We don’t need her for this, right?” Ophelia said, toying with the lapels of his pinstripe suit.

“Actually, I do,” he said, which earned a very violent glare from Mr. Frump. “What's the point without the whole family?”

“I’m right here,” came Morticia’s soft voice from behind them.

Gomez beamed as he took in the sight of her. She was wearing a tight floor length dress that was tantalizingly sheer in some parts and disappointingly solid in others. Her shiny hair was pulled uncharacteristically into a low bun, showing off the pale column of her neck. Gomez was almost drooling at the sight of her red lips, which were pulled into a slight pout for a reason unknown to him.

“Good,” he said once he had regained his composure. “We can go then. Follow me!”

“Do you all really need me there?” Morticia asked, stopping Gomez dead in his tracks. 

He walked back over and took her hand, to the dismay of everyone else in the room. “I need you there most of all,” he whispered as she glanced nervously at her family. “There is no point to this without you there.”

“Morticia, stop monopolizing Gomez!” her mother snapped. “We need to get a move on!”

Gomez grinned as Morticia looked at him with confusion. “To the beach!”

He led them out into the night, the full moon hanging low over the swirling waves of the dark ocean. There was a peal of thunder from somewhere far away as a gust of wind picked up. It really was shaping up to be the most perfect night.

He walked up to the aisle he made in the sand out of thorny rose stems and small candles. This led back to a semi circle made up of black vases full of thorns which were tied with black ribbons and there were candelabras in between. Gomez walked out to the center and turned to face the astounded faces of the Frump family.

“Gomez, this looks like a funeral,” Ophelia said, crossing her arms angrily over her pink dress.

“You said this would be a proposal that would knock our socks off!” Mrs. Frump added indignantly.

“It will be,” Gomez said, fighting the nerves rising in his stomach. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the ring box, clasping it tightly in his hands. Another peal of thunder rolled by, followed by a lightning strike over the ocean. “I told you that your daughter deserved a proposal like this.” He raised his eyes to look at Morticia.

“Like this?” Mrs. Frump asked. “This is not Ophelia at all.”

“If you would give me a moment, Mrs. Frump,” Gomez said, clearing his throat. “I would like to tell you both, that I think your daughter deserves the entire world. Not only is she by far the most beautiful woman who has ever set foot on this earth, she is also intelligent, talented, compassionate. For the first time in my life I have met a person that has stunned me beyond belief. She is the other half of my soul, and I would not be complete without her in my life. I have been in love with her since I laid eyes on the back of her head as she read Edgar Allen Poe against my cousin’s tombstone.”

Morticia stifled a gasp, raising a hand to her mouth. Gomez smiled at her, extending his hand toward her. To everyone else’s confusion, Morticia stepped forward and took his hand. Gomez knelt down on one knee, completely and totally oblivious to the noises of outrage coming from the other three Frumps.

“What is the meaning of this?” Mrs. Frump asked.

“Morticia Frump, it's you I am in love with, and I don’t care who knows it.” He opened the ring box, the large black diamond glinting in the moonlight as lightning crackled close to the shore. Morticia was stunned as she looked between Gomez and the ring. “My life would not be complete without you as my wife. I swear to love you until the complete end of time. Every fiber of my being loves you, Morticia. Please, would you do me the highest honor of marrying me?”

Morticia ignored her mother's screams of protest. Tears of joy rolled down her cheeks as she grinned down at him. She took his face in her hands, urging him to his feet. “I love you, Gomez. Of course I’ll marry you.”

They kissed as thunder boomed, their arms winding tightly around each other. Gomez lifted her from her feet, spinning her around. They only broke apart because Mrs. Frump pulled them apart.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” she yelled.

Gomez protective put his arm around Morticia as he faced down the fury before him. He looked at Ophelia, who oddly didn’t seem to be very phased. “I’m sorry, Ophelia, I’ve tried to tell you, all of you, but none of you ever let me get it out! Since I could never get a word in edgewise, I thought this was the only way.”

Ophelia took a few steps forward and shrugged. “Actually, it's alright.”

“What?” Gomez and Morticia said together.

“Yeah,” Ophelia said again. “I get it now, why you were always asking me what I liked about him. And why the both of you seemed to have inside jokes. It makes sense. Also, at that club, when Gomez told me he was in love with Morticia, that makes sense now too.”

“You aren’t mad?” Morticia asked, clinging tightly to Gomez.

Ophelia waved her hand. “No, we have our differences, but I’m happy for you. I kind of wish you just told me outright, but hey, what are you going to do?”

“Ophelia,” Morticia gasped. “This is the most selfless thing you’ve ever done. I’m shocked.”

Ophelia smiled and pulled Morticia and Gomez into a hug. “You’re my sister, I love you! Even though you’re so weird.”

“I love you too, Ophelia,” Morticia whispered. “Even though you like Taylor Swift.”

Gomez smiled and took a step back, letting the sisters have their moment. Unfortunately, that meant he had to face down Mr. and Mrs. Frump. “Your only saving grace is that Ophelia is happy,” Mrs. Frump hissed. “Or else you would be dead.”

“And what about Morticia’s happiness?” he countered, reaching for her hand.

“Just let it go, darling,” Morticia said as she slipped the ring on her finger. “It isn’t worth getting into.”

Ophelia skipped over to her parents and took their hands. “Let's go back to the house. I’m going to try on the bridesmaid dress we got for Morticia! Oh, Tish, I can’t wait to do some wedding planning! Hey, Tish, that is catchy, Gomez!”

Astoundingly, they followed Ophelia without an argument, leaving Gomez and Morticia alone. “Happy, my darling?” he asked before kissing the back of her hand.

“You have no idea,” she whispered, looking at him in amazement. “This morning, I was so sure that you were going to propose to Ophelia…”

Gomez laughed. “Why ever would you think that?”

Morticia rolled her eyes as she looked down at her ring. “Because of what my mother said. I should have had more faith in you. Your proposal was beautiful, more than I ever could have dreamed of.”

Gomez rested his forehead against Morticia’s. “Just promise me one thing, Tish.”

“Anything.” 

“Never doubt my love for you again, because it permeates every cell of my body. It is who I am.”

She smiled and kissed him softly. “Never again will I doubt you, Gomez Addams. And to think, I was going to leave tonight. What a fool I would have been.”

“I’m very glad you didn’t. If you’re going to run away, you have to take me with you.”

“To the ends of the earth, mon cher.”

“Oh, cara mia.” He kissed her again. “How should we celebrate?”

“I think I may have a few ideas. All of them start with me kissing you right now.”

“I could think of nothing better.”


End file.
